Fall
by Decadebaby
Summary: Perfection is an illusion and it is just a matter of time until the illusion fades.
1. Chapter 1

Stevie McCord tipped toed inside the house, hoping against hope, that no one would still be up. It was 2 a.m. and in a perfect world her parents would have been asleep for hours. But she did not live in a perfect world. The very fact that she was tiptoeing into her _parent's_ house proved it. Next week she would turn twenty-one and she was living with her parents, and constantly dodging press. Life was a million miles from perfect.

She should have just waited to come home in the morning. At this point what difference did it make? At least she could get some sleep before facing her parents. She was sick of being judged and evaluated. She suffered enough from the endless press. She didn't want to get the same looks from her parents. _All in the Family?_ The cover of People magazine read. She'd seen it in the store the other day. A picture of the two of them standing together and laughing. _Harrison Dalton's new love knows all about a life in politics._

All she wanted was to be left alone. She wanted to live her life and make her own choices without a panel discussing it. She didn't need her mother's staff discussing how it would look if she dropped her French literature class or what to do if a picture surfaced of her kissing the president's son.

It wasn't that she loved Harrison, or maybe she did - she couldn't seem to untangle all her feelings. She only knew that he understood. He had grown up with whispered conversations and secrets. He too had "aunts" and "uncles" who appeared and disappeared. It wasn't necessary to explain to him why she left school or was sick to death of reporters and questions. It was easy with him, and lately _nothing_ had been easy.

She slid her shoes off as soon as she moved inside the entryway. Glancing around, it appeared that all the lights were off. Sighing with relief, she moved quietly toward the stairs. It was as she stepped onto the first step that a light clicked on, and she turned to see her parents sitting on the couch, waiting.

"Sorry, did I interrupt something?" She teased, hoping that she could distract them.

"Tragically, no." Her father said. "Come sit down."

"It's really late and I've got classes tomorrow . . ."

"So do I." His voice was sharp.

"Dad, can't we talk about this tomorrow? I'm sorry I was late, okay? I'll call next time."

"You are nearly twenty-one years old, Stevie. You aren't a child." Her mother said, finally speaking. "This isn't about breaking curfew or sneaking out."

She hesitated. It was so easy to get sucked into her mother's reasoning. Her mother's reasoning, like her fashion sense, was nearly always perfect. Of course she was an excellent choice for Secretary of State! Stevie could testify first hand to her mother's insanely effective debate skills.

"So, what's it about then?"

"Come. Sit. Down." The anger in her father's voice surprised her. But then again, his fuse had been shorter lately; since Iran.

She folded herself into a chair across from them, avoiding eye contact. It was hard for her to look her mother in the eye and remain unmoved. There was a level of sadness hidden behind the bright smiles.

"We need to talk about you and Harrison." She couldn't help but look up at her mother.

"It's nothing. We are just friends." She said shaking her head.

"It's two thirty in the morning. You were wearing a dress when you left." Her mother pointed to her clothes: jeans and a t-shirt.

"Jesus! Mom! Could you not be a spy for ten minutes of my life?"

"If you were trying to hide something, you need to work a lot harder at it. It doesn't take any espionage skills to recognize what's going on." Her father said. "And don't use that tone with your mother."

She exhaled slowly, trying to fight an overwhelming tide of fury. "Fine." She snapped angrily. "Tell me what you want to say."

"Honey, we are just concerned. You know Harrison isn't stable. He's been sober, what? Maybe thirty days?" Her father continued evenly.

"Thirty-six." She responded bitterly. "We are just friends."

"Does Harrison know that? When we were at that dinner the other night, I saw how he looked at you. Are you sure he understands?" Her mother asked.

"What?" Stevie shrugged her shoulders. "Of course he does."

"Because you talked about it?" Her mother pressed, but Stevie refused to respond. "Honey, you have to be careful. He isn't like you. He is fragile. You need to make sure things are clear. Have you even thought about how he feels?"

"What do you want me to do?" Stevie kept her voice flat. She did not want to get in an argument. She let a loud sigh. "Just tell me what I have to do."

"Hey!" Her father stood. "You are acting like we put ridiculous demands on you."

She glared up at him, responding without words.

"When I was your age I was . . ."

"A Marine." She finished for him. "Doing everything you could to get a good education. And she," She nodded at her mother, "was in Kenya digging wells before going to France to study with some of the richest brats on earth." She rose. "I know the stories."

"You are in a position of great privilege, Stevie. We let you take time off from school, we supported you. We are paying for your education. But you have to take some responsibility for your life! You can't keep drifting along, making decisions just to prove you aren't your mother! You are too old for this senseless rebellion!" His voice rose in anger.

"Henry," Her mother said gently. "Take it easy. Sit down."

He sat back down, looking up at Stevie as he did. "I'm sorry." He explained. "I just get frustrated. You are so bright and so amazingly talented. It hurts me to see you drift."

"I _had_ a plan." Her voice was soft at first, but grew louder and angrier. "I went to school! I did everything right! _I'm_ not the one who changed everything! _I'm_ not the one who made it impossible! Everything got screwed up! It is impossible for me to do the things I want, okay? I am doing the best I can under the circumstances! I'm sorry my life's plan isn't perfect enough for you! I'm trying to make a life for myself, and I don't need you attacking me at two in the morning!"

"Plan?" Her mother asked. "Your plan is to hang out with a maybe-recovering heroin addict in secret? This is what you want?"

"Jesus! Mom! Why don't you just read me a headline! I don't need you telling me what I can read in line at the grocery store okay? You don't even understand! You, of all people, should know it's a lot more complicated than that!"

"You aren't fifteen and putting on black lipstick to prove you aren't me, Stephanie. You are a grown woman!"

"No. One thing is clear, I am most definitely _not_ you! I'm not going to be valedictorian this time around! I'm not the wunderkid any more, okay! That's over! I'm not gonna win a Pulitzer Prize before I'm thirty, and I'm not going to broker world peace."

"Because that's what we've expected of you?" Her mother responded evenly.

"God! Listen, how about this? Lets save time and cut to the chase. You make a list of who I can date and where I can go. No, better yet, have your staff do it."

She hadn't realized she was shouting until she heard Ali's voice behind her.

"What's going on?" She asked, but no one responded. Jason stood just behind her, looking frightened and she felt a wave of guilt wash over her.

Her father rose, his face white with anger. "Listen," His voice was sharp and controlled. "I get that things have been hard for you, and I am sorry that you feel mistreated, but you are not going to talk to your mother like that. That isn't how we function. We don't do that. She doesn't . . ."

"Sure!" Her rage grew, all thoughts of her younger siblings swept aside in frustration. "We all know exactly where you stand, Dad. Mom, above all else! She wants to uproot all of us and drag us into the glare of the press, then you'll be there packing our bags! Anything for her!"

"Enough!"

"No!" She recognized she was shouting now, acting like a deranged twelve year old. "I'm sick of it! You didn't want to leave UVA! And why? For this? Alison never eats - she's so stressed all the time, Jason's been expelled! I can't take two steps without some asshole reporter following me and Mom's walking around in designer gowns pretending everything is just perfect while you wait in the wings with her bottle of Xanax!"

"I've never once taken one pill!" Her mother said her face tense with fear, anger and stress.

"No! God forbid you should do something for yourself! It's the goddamn job above all else; above even you! Pretend to sleep at night, have your clothes altered to fit as you shrink and shrink, and put a pretty smile on your face - Team McCord is 100% awesome!" She didn't hold back now, fueled by frustration, anger and a little too much wine.

"Hey," Her father moved toward her, a hand outstretched. "Everything is okay. Everything is going to be okay."

"No, it isn't." Jason's bitter voice surprised all of them.

"Jason," Her mother rose, going to him. "Go back to bed. This is between Stevie, your father and me." She kissed his forehead. "It's okay. I am okay!" She reached out squeezing Alison's arm. "Stevie is just upset. I am fine. Go on, now, both of you, go to bed. We are just working some things out."

"Right." Jason said, stepping back from her. "You are great and everything is fine."

"The McCord Family Lie: We are just great, thanks!" Stevie said bitterly.

"Stop being such a jerk!" Alison said. "You aren't helping!"

"God forbid, anyone should tell the truth!" Stevie continued angrily.

"That's enough!" Her father shouted.

"Right." Stevie said glancing around her family. "It is enough. I've had enough!" She reached out grabbing a nearby empty glass that was sitting on the coffee table. "And everything is just great. She left us and walked into a middle of coup and _you let her do it_! Four agents got killed including her body man! But everything is just great. A little PTSD is no big deal! She's great!"

She glared at them for a long second and then lifting high the glass, threw it down violently. It smashed into pieces, shattering loudly as it did. Her mother immediately covered her ears crouching low, her face white.

The room remained frozen for a long, slow, silent moment. The only sound; only movement came from her mother who still cowered, her shallow panicked breathing and soft whimpers punctuating the silence. Her father leapt into action then, rushing to her side. "Elizabeth!" His voice rose in pitch. "It's okay." He knelt beside her, an arm wrapped around her.

Stevie's eyes grew wide with shock and she stared down at her own hand in disbelief. She couldn't believe it; couldn't believe she'd been so cruel. She looked up glancing around. Jason's head was down as he cried and glaring at her, Alison put her arm around their baby brother, staring at her with open hatred. Her eyes landed on her parents, her mother pale, trembling and fighting to regain control, her father close beside her, whispering encouragement. He looked up at her and she actually took a step back in fear.

"Get out!"

She found herself stumbling, as she staggered back and away. The words themselves were delivered quietly; like a hiss. Grabbing her bag she stumbled out into the dark night sobbing and alone.


	2. Chapter 2

_Fourteen months earlier . . ._

Stevie McCord shifted her backpack onto her shoulder and made her way back to her dorm room. She was stressed about the quiz she had just turned in - pretty sure she'd bombed it. She'd known that she should have studied but the entire dorm had gathered to watch "The Bachelor" and the temptation to join had been too strong.

"Hey!"

She looked up to find Annabeth from her biology lab walking beside her.

"Done for the day?" She asked.

"Yep." Stevie paused. "What about you?"

"I've got a class later tonight, but nothing til then. Hey, you wanna get some coffee?"

"Always!" They walked side by side to the Campus Cafe. Stevie felt out of sorts. Annabeth had never been friendly before. It seemed strange.

"What do you have tonight?" Stevie asked conversationally. "I hate those three hour night classes!"

"It was the only section left." Annabeth said with a shrug. "Polyscience 104."

"What's that?"

"Modern American/Soviet Relations."

"Oh, God!" Stevie groaned as they sat at an empty table. "That sounds infinitely boring!"

"Not into politics?"

It was something in the way she asked the question that put Stevie on red alert. _Modern American/Soviet Relations?_ It sounded like something her mother would teach. She glanced around uncomfortably.

"I figured with your family, you'd be really into politics."

"What do you mean?" Stevie felt suddenly sick.

"Everyone knows, okay? I don't know why you have to act all secretive and stuck up."

"What is that supposed to mean? You don't even know what me! Why are you talking about my family?"

"You are kind of a celebrity is all. Geez! Like no one has ever asked you about it? C'mon! Give me a break! Your family knows the President! Is it true you dated his son?"

"Hey, look, I don't know who you've been talking to but I . . ."

"Your Mom isn't Secretary of State right now?" Annabeth sat back in the chair. "Come on! I looked it up."

"Why?" Stevie felt angry. "What difference does it make? We've been in the same class for a month and _now_ you want to talk to me? Who cares who my mother is! She isn't here!"

"I should've known there was a reason you are so stuck up! God, one question and you act like a bitch! Whatever princess!" Annabeth stormed away.

Stevie stayed where she was completely stunned. _What the hell was that?_ She glanced around hoping no one had overheard.

***MS***

It started with Annabeth. That was the first time someone approached her about her name; her parents. But it didn't stop there. She started getting asked on a more regular basis, "McCord, huh? Like the Secretary of State?" She had thought that administration had made it perfectly clear to all the professors but even her French professor asked about it.

"Have you been to the White House?"

Most people didn't ask about it outright, though. But she noticed subtle changes - people she hardly knew following her around. Overly friendly people asking to be part of her study group or to join their club or sorority. She was starting to feel paranoid.

The worst were the glares and the whispering. Once in the cafeteria, as she was trying to choke down an omelette that made even _her_ mother's cooking look good, she was ambushed by a thin brown-haired boy.

"What's your mother got against American businesses?"

"Pardon me?"

"My father's company will go under if those tariffs get removed! What's her problem anyway?"

"I don't know who you are or what you are talking about."

"I'm talking about your jackass blond-headed mother making stupid decisions because of PMS!"

She furrowed her brow tempted to use a couple of moves her father had taught her on the idiot blinking in front of her, but instead she rose and said politely, "Please go away!"

It was an impossible situation: if she hit him, it would be in the press. If she yelled at him it would be in the press. It went against every fiber of her being to let such a colossal prick just walk away.

***MS***

"Your classes okay?" Her mother asked, squinting at the computer screen. "You look skinny. Have you been eating? Are you sick?"

"I'm fine. Just tired."

"You sure?" Her mother leaned closer. "Not boy trouble?"

"No, Mom!" She laughed. "God! I'm fine!"

"I'm sorry, baby! I know I'm supposed to get used to it, but I miss you! I miss you being home."

"Which home?" Stevie asked.

Jason had used his Gopro and given her a tour when they were house hunting but now she couldn't quite remember which of houses he'd shown her, that they'd moved into. It was all part of the whirling, upside down feeling she had; how could she be homesick if she'd never been home?

"Honey, maybe Dad and I could come for a visit or . . ."

"Seriously? With your security detail? Why not bring Mr. Dalton with you!"

"Right." Her Mom said with a sigh. "I hadn't really thought that through. I forget sometimes. It's just new, Stephy. We can figure it out."

"Don't call me that." Stevie, protested with a shy smile. "I've got a paper to write and you've got a country to run so . . ."

"I love you, sweetheart. Thanksgiving isn't that far away. It's always tough this time of year. Remember last year?"

It was true. Her freshman year she'd been a sobbing pathetic mess right around October. She had called home sobbing like a pathetic baby three nights in a row and then the next day her parents had surprised her, dropping everything and taking her out to lunch. It was like that was possible now.

"I know. You're right. I'm fine. I hate that I missed Jason's birthday, that's all."

"He survived." Her mother laughed. "He's a 'man' now. At least that what he tells me every time I try to give him a kiss."

"He still sleeps with that Mr. Koala, though." She said laughing, feeling herself relax.

"Yes." Her mother smiled widely. "He misses you, though." She sighed. "I do, too. Alison doesn't ever fight with me."

"Your perfect twin." Stevie said with a laugh. "Give her time. Sixteen is coming."

"Don't remind me. Do you need anything?"

"No. I'm good."

"Okay, sweetie. I better go. Dad'll be sorry he missed you."

"That's okay. I'll talk to him later."

"I love you. You are doing great. And I can't wait for Thanksgiving."

"I love you, too. Tell the brats I miss them."

"Can we Skype Thursday?"

"I can if you can." Stevie laughed. "Go save the world."

***MS***

"The problem," She explained to her roommate Jane. "Is that it is nearly impossible to be angry at my mother. She is the most logical person you could ever meet and she's insanely fair."

"But she screwed up your life." Jane pointed out.

"Not intentionally. It's just a by-product of being who she is - I mean, knowing she's running things actually makes _me_ feel better! The woman has never failed at anything."

"I thought you said she couldn't cook."

"But even that she does at the top level. I mean, she once set our toaster on fire - and she wasn't even making toast. Even in something like that she takes it to an epic level."

"Well, then you're doubly-screwed! I mean your life is f'd up and you can't even get mad about it." Jane shrugged her shoulders. "Yesterday, I got 47 friend requests on facebook and 15 new follows on Instagram. I don't know any of them!"

"I haven't even checked mine this week! It's insane!" She fell back flat on her bed. "I thought our generation didn't care about politics! What the hell? Did you even know who are Secretary of State was before?"

"Nope. But what are you gonna do? I mean about all those sorority and club requests?"

Stevie sat up on her elbows. "Well, I guess I'll have to choose between the Young Communists and the FFA!"

She and Jane both laughed, but inside she felt like weeping - no she felt like packing a bag and heading home -of course, she'd have to get directions first.

***MS***

"So if you were to show any support, I bet it would get more attention."

Stevie McCord considered the small group of students sitting across from her thoughtfully. They were so earnest and so badly organized. She understood far better than they, what it would really take to bring attention to the ridiculous "Need-Aware" policy that Lovell was instituting. It was a stupid, unfair policy that would result in inequality becoming a campus norm. It was the kind of thing she'd been raised to notice; the kind of thing she'd been raised to do something to stop. It would serve her parents right if a firestorm of press rained down on her mother because they'd raised her to speak out against oppression. _"If a law is unjust a man is not only right to disobey it, he is obligated to do so."_ Her father had quoted Thomas Jefferson enough times to leave an impression on her.

"What is your plan exactly?" She asked.

"Flyers and signs in the quad." Brian, their leader said excitedly.

"Well, wouldn't be better if you could stage a protest?" She asked, remembering the time her mother had helped her organize a protest when her school wouldn't allow girls to take wood shop in junior high.

"What do you mean?"

 _God! These people are babies!_ Some aspects of her childhood were completely ordinary - picnics, birthday parties, trips to the beach or amusement parks, but other parts weren't. It wasn't just watching the President of the United States being sworn into office and remembering the time the now leader of the free world was throwing you into a pool at a bbq, but a life in academia and politics. Her parents were not politicians but many of their friends were and the ones who weren't, were generally CIA. She'd been fed a steady diet of philosophy, diplomacy and intrigue since birth. Her earliest memories were of sitting in the giant university library reading a book about duckies while her father studied an old manuscript. By the time she went to college, she had already logged more hours on campus than some professors. And these kids knew nothing about staging a protest and drawing in the press.

 _"Stevie, if you just walk up to the Dean and say, 'Girls should be able to take wood shop' that's using your voice, and he might listen to you, or he might not. If you walk up and yell at him about how unfair the policy is, he'll probably dig in and be defensive." Her mother explained._

 _"So what should I do?"_

 _"What do you think he would do if you gathered a group of friends, and you carried signs and called the local papers and asked to speak with him about the policy? What if you said that you didn't believe he could possibly support such an unfair policy in front of those friends and reporters?"_

 _"He would say he was against it." She smiled, amazed at her mother. "Mom! That's brilliant! It's like pushing him to do what you want, but making it look like he wanted to do it."_

 _"It's using your mind and voice, and strengthening it with the voices of others. It's a kind of diplomacy where you allow someone to make the obvious and right choice."_

 _"It's called manipulation, honey." Her father had clarified. "And it works really, really well."_

It was all so simple then, and her parents were towers of wisdom and strength. Now, she was completely trapped. School had become a nightmare. She was without escape. She couldn't very well tell her mother that her career was destroying her life. She was a self-avowed feminist for Christ's sake! There was no way she could say, "No! You can't do this amazing once-in-a-life-time opportunity because you are my mommy and I need you to lay low, while I spread my wings." She couldn't even talk to them about it - her mom would feel guilty and her dad would defend her mother. In all her years, she'd never felt so alone and powerless.

She studied the faces in front of her. They didn't know her. She only knew Brian and Cecily from one of her classes - the rest of them were strangers. They didn't even really want to know about her either. They just wanted their cause to be heard by any means necessary.

 _"Hey, you see that girl over there with the auburn hair? Her mom is Secretary of State! What if we get her on board? The press would lose their shit! It would be awesome!"_

It was a strange thing to wander through campus completely recognized but completely unknown. It filled her with loneliness. She longed for home and could imagine herself wandering the empty, cold rooms of the horse farm - alone even there. "I have become a name, forever wandering with an empty heart." Lord Tennyson really knew his shit. But if you became nothing more than a figure or name what else was left but to play the part?

"The first thing we need to do is get as many people as we can to agree to a rally, and then call all the press we can." She told them. "And I should be out in front - they will pay attention if you use my name."

"Oh, sweet! You'll do it?" Brian beamed. "This is going to be epic!"

"You've no idea." Stevie told him.

***MS***

It wasn't until she was on the outskirts of DC that she felt the weight of what she'd done.

She'd quit school.

She was a dropout.

She'd been valedictorian, captain of the volleyball team and had six schools offering her a scholarship when she'd graduated from high school. And now she was running home; a drop out. It was quite possibly the most depressing night of her life. She was going to walk into a house she'd seen on video once and explain to her mother that she was a quitter; a loser kid who couldn't hack it in the real.

She could just picture her mother standing there looking completely flawless, her insanely beautiful eyes filled with disappointment, as her firstborn returned home with her tail between her legs. As the cab pulled to a stop, a knot of agents gathered, and she drew in a steadying breath, trying not be overwhelmed by the insane circumstance.

She pushed open the door. "Um, it's just me." She said to the nearest agent. "I'm Stevie, uh, Stephanie McCord, the um oldest."

"Yes, of course. We weren't expecting you!" He said with a smile.

"It's kind of a surprise visit." She explained, shyly. "Can someone let me in? I don't have a key yet?"

***MS***

Author's Note

Hey, thanks for all the reviews! I appreciate all the kind, and even the constructive criticism. My favorite thing about MS is how completely rich the characters are, and Stevie is the perfect example of that. I love her fabulous beautiful 20 year old righteous, protesting, supportive, loyal and disloyal complexity. I find it far more realistic that she has some missteps. I mean, how could you possible step flawlessly into womanhood if Elizabeth McCord was your mother? Anywho, this is written with much love and much respect, and compassion for the difficulties of being young, driven and under a very impressive shadow.


	3. Chapter 3

Elizabeth McCord had exactly one hour to herself for the first time in three days. A pack of idiot teenagers had decided to play a "joke" outside the Chinese embassy, and she'd spent every hour of her life trying to mop up the mess. It was exhausting. And just when things seemed to be settling back into a tenuous peace, the entire Middle East decided to blow up. She hadn't stepped inside her own house in three long, grinding days. Even now, she had only an hour to shower, change and glance at her children and husband's face and rush right back out into more meetings. Things were precarious and it would take finesse to prevent a bloodbath - finesse and a miracle.

"Babe!" Henry's face lit up with joy as she stepped inside. "I thought you were sending Blake!"

"He cannot be trusted. He brought three black blouses in a row. If I can't leave the office , I should at least have variety in what I wear!" She moved into his embrace. "Don't get comfy. I've got 59 minutes."

His face sank. "Yeah, well. A man can dream." He squeezed her shoulders. "Hungry? I've got some leftover chicken."

"Oh, God, yes!" She glanced over her shoulder. "Ali? Jason?" She called.

"Who is that?" Jason stepped into the hallway pointing at her, a mischievous grin on his face.

"You are lucky I miss you too much to be mad." She stepped out of Henry's arms hugging Jason. "Are you taller? You can't be taller?"

"Seriously, Mom?" He shook his head. "Could you be anymore basic?"

"Is that an insult? What?" She looked at Henry. "What does that mean?"

"It means he missed you and is thrilled to see you, right?" Henry said to Jason.

"I did and I am." Jason said kissing her cheek.

"Where's Noodle?" She looked around.

"Upstairs." Jason said. "She's got her headphones on though. Want me to get her?"

"No. I'll go up." She glanced at Henry. "I'm gonna take a quick shower. Then maybe dinner?"

He sighed and nodded his head. "Sure, babe." He kissed her again before turning to the kitchen.

She took the stairs two at a time and went immediately to Ali's room. She was staring at her laptop, lying across her bed on her stomach, headphones on her ears. Elizabeth reached out squeezing her daughter's shoulder.

"Mom!" Ali jumped up in surprise, tossing her headphones aside. "You're home!" She threw her arms around her mother.

"Just to change, I'm afraid." She kissed Ali's cheek. "How are you?"

"Good. I'm taking a break from studying. Midterms are next week. Did Dad tell you? My chem teacher said I didn't even have to take the midterm! He said even if I got an "f" on it I'd still have an "A" in the class!"

"He did!" She ran a hand through Ali's long dark hair. "I'm so proud of you, Noodle."

"You have to go back today?" Ali asked.

"'Fraid, so baby. I'm sorry. Things have been kind of chaotic."

"It's because of those bombings. But they said on the news that things were nearly settled."

"Nearly is still open to interpretation." She sighed.

"You leave for Nepal is three days. Will you be home before then?" Ali sank back onto her bed.

"I don't know. But it's just a quick trip and then I'll be home." She sat down, hugging Alison to her. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I am."

"It's fine." Alison said softly. "I just got spoiled growing up. You were always around. I'll get used to it, I guess."

"Dad's a way better cook than me, anyway."

"Jason a better cook than you!" Alison offered with a sad grin.

"True." She kissed Alison's forehead. "I'm gonna take a shower. I won't leave without a goodbye, okay?"

"Okay."

She rose and walked to the hall but hesitated in the doorway. "You hear from your sister?"

"Mom, just call her." Alison said.

"I did. She didn't answer."

"She has classes and work. It didn't mean anything. Try again."

"I will."

***MS***

Standing under the hot water, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep. She couldn't remember the last night she had slept longer than six hours and she couldn't picture when she'd be able to again.

There was a rush of cold air as the bathroom door swung open. She rubbed the glass door to see Henry leaning against the counter, a towel in his hands.

"Blake called." His voice was flat. "They are coming back early."

"Oh." She sighed. "I guess I better get back."

"Yeah." Henry sighed. "I packed up some chicken and Ali made a cheesecake the other day. It was really good."

She turned off the shower, and stepping out took the towel he handed her. "Thanks, honey." She said wrapping it around herself. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"For what? You didn't plan that prank at the embassy or blow up fifteen markets in Islamabad, did you?" He smiled at her. "It's just the job."

"The job sucks ass, Henry." He followed her into the closet.

"Pretty talk, lady." He teased her.

"How are you anyway?" She asked as she dressed. She slid into a pair of black pants and reached up for a green blouse.

"I'm doing fine, but babe, we need to talk."

"Henry, I've got like twenty minutes. I can't deal with anything right now."

"I know and I'm sorry, but who knows when you'll be home again and tomorrow is . . ."

"I was there, Henry!" She interrupted sharply. "I know what tomorrow is!" She slid the shirt over her head and brushed past him, going back into the bathroom. He followed after.

"Elizabeth, I'm not . . ." He leaned against the counter, shaking his head in frustration. "We haven't talked in days, okay? I just wanted to . . ."

"I've got the weight of the entire Middle East on my shoulders and you thought this would be a great time to talk about it?" She opened a drawer, setting make-up and brushes on the counter. "I never said she couldn't come home."

"Thanks," he said angrily. "That's fair!"

"That's not what I meant! I'm just saying, she is perfectly capable of calling us!"

"But she hasn't! I know I shouldn't have . . ." He struggled momentarily. "But she knew what she was doing when she broke that glass! We had talked about it over and over. She was damn clear about your triggers! It was cruel!"

"I didn't say it wasn't!" She paused her hand mid air, make up brush in hand. "I can't talk about this right now! I can only manage so much!"

"You think this is how I want to spend the only time I will have with you for the next week? I can't even get you on the phone! You leave in three days. I just want to . . ." He slammed his fist in frustration. "Baby, please! I don't want to fight with you!"

"Then don't!" She responded.

"She's twenty-one tomorrow." He said softer. "Should we call her?"

"Henry, please!" She shoved her makeup back into the drawer. "I can't . . ." She stood with her palms flat against the counter, her eyes studying the surface. "I should've just sent Blake." She said softly. "This was a mistake."

"It was." He agreed as he turned away, leaving her alone.

***MS***

Her hair was still damp as she came down the back stairs that led into the kitchen. She was too impatient to really fix it. Both Ali and Jason were sitting at the table, Alison with her books spread in front of her, and Jason eating a bowl of ice cream.

"Well, I've got to go back." She said standing beside Jason, a hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks for stopping by." Jason teased but he paled when her eyes filled with tears.

"I'll. . . I'll call tomorrow if I," She swallowed hard. "If I can't get home."

"Mom, I'm sorry. I was just goofing. We are fine."

"Don't worry about it." She kissed his forehead, running her hand through his bangs. "I'm just tired and homesick."

"Here." Alison handed her a lunch bag. "I made the cheesecake myself."

She accepted the bag and wrapped her arms around Alison. "Thank you, Noodle. I'll see you guys soon, okay?"

"Bye Mom! Love you!" Alison smiled at her.

"Love you!" Jason said in a soft echo.

She left the kitchen and went out to the front hall to get her coat and bag. Henry was nowhere to be found. An overwhelming ache filled her heart and she was struggling with tears, as she slid into her coat. She couldn't believe how horrible her visit home had been. She actually felt worse; she felt a million times worse.

***MS***

"So, you are never coming home?" Alison said into her phone.

"I didn't say that." Stevie said. "What about Mom?"

"Stevie just call her! I know she called you. And everything is a mess! They are both really upset."

"You don't understand. I can't just come home and say sorry."

"Yes, you can!" Alison pleaded. "Things are super stressful at work. I mean, have you watched the news at all?"

"So this is about her?"

"Stevie! You are being such a jerk! You know she cried for hours after you left! You threw her into a panic attack! Dad was pissed, and Jason cried himself to sleep!"

"Listen, if I wanted a lecture, I can call Dad."

"You should call Dad! You need to fix this!"

"Kid, I am sorry I threw that glass. I really am. But I don't know if this is something that can be fixed."

"Yes, it can!" Alison's voice rose. "Fix it, Stevie!"

She hung up and threw her phone across the room, covering her face with her hands.

***MS***

"So," Hannah flopped onto the couch next to her. "Twenty-one tomorrow."

"This is true." Stevie said.

"I cannot wait!" Hannah smiled. "Everyone's gonna be there - well except Louis and Pauly - Louis has to work and Pauly's only nineteen. He has the saddest looking fake id you've ever seen. He can't get in anywhere!"

"It will be fun." Stevie tried to sound enthusiastic.

"Ah, c'mon! Everyone fights with their parents! Don't sweat it!"

"Right."

"And listen, about next week, you found a place right?"

"Yeah." Stevie lied. "Don't worry."

"Great! I can't believe Alex is actually going to visit! I'm so excited! It's been four months since I've seen him! But you can move back if you want after he leaves - unless I can convince him to transfer!"

"Thanks. I really appreciate you letting me stay."

"Well, it's no problem. Besides you are a way better cook than me! I should have you cook for me and Alex! Who taught you?"

"Basic survival." Stevie said with a shrug. "My mom can't cook."

"I thought she was perfect at everything!"

Hannah said surprised.

"Nope," Stevie said bitterly. "She's pretty damned flawed.


	4. Chapter 4

Elizabeth McCord stepped out onto the front steps of her house, her chin down and her face set in a grim expression. She actually felt like crying, and she wasn't much of a crier. Well, before Iran, she wasn't much of a crier.

When she'd first returned home she hadn't cried at all - not even as Henry wept with gratefulness, his arms tight around her. She had remained silent and numb. But later after they began to unravel the mess of Iran and the horrible attack, she seemed to cry at every turn. Only recently, had she found the strength? resolve? to ward off tears. She hadn't had a flashback in weeks, until Stevie had thrown the glass. She had been, therefore, wholly unprepared for it and so it had hit her full force. She found herself breathing into a paper bag, struggling against unspeakable memories. It had taken hours to calm her racing heart, Henry at her side the entire time, and then she'd fallen asleep curled in his protective arms - both of them completely exhausted. It was just as dawn broke, that Nadine had called saying, "There's a problem at the Chinese Embassy, ma'am." They'd had no time to talk, no time to comfort one another over the previous night, no time to craft a plan to deal with their first born, no time to even just be together in the same space, and now when she'd finally had a break and come home - they'd fought and he wouldn't even say goodbye.

"Not much of a visit home, Ma'am." Frank said as she approached the car.

"No rest for the wicked." She said trying to joke.

"There ought to be rest for you then, Ma'am." Frank said opening the door for her and she moved to climb inside but after looking inside said, "Frank, there's already someone in this car."

"Yes, Madam Secretary, but he claims to know you." Frank winked at her. "You want me to remove him?"

"No, but," She hesitated. "You're married, right Frank."

"Twenty-seven years." He told her with a grin. "Nearly twenty-eight."

"Good. Because you might hear an argument on the way and I hate to crush your dream of romance without the harshness of real life."

"No, worries there, ma'am." He said with a laugh. "And Dr. McCord mentioned there might be a 'discussion'." Frank said winking at Henry who waited patiently inside the car. "He asked me to remind you of your panic button." He raised his eyebrows at her. "You hit that and I don't care who's sitting next to you, we will shut it down."

"Let's hope it doesn't get that." She smiled and climbed into the backseat.

"You actually thought I would let you leave without a goodbye?" Henry admonished, as she settled in the seat. "Come on, babe, it is still you and me."

"I don't know what to think anymore." She slumped against the seat, running a hand over her face, exhausted beyond words.

"That's a first!" He said wryly.

***MS***

The truth was she had nowhere to go. It was completely stressing her out. Stevie McCord had friends from her time working at Frank's and friends from classes, but it wasn't like Virginia. She couldn't go back there either. Most of her friends were away at school and it was too far to get to classes. Stevie scrolled through her phone trying to figure out what to do and who to call.

She rode the Metro for awhile and ended up near Frank's thinking maybe she'd run into a friend, forgetting completely it was within a stone's throw of the State Department. She stood for a long time in front of the building, looking up and wondering if her mother was there. Ali had said that she had been working nonstop. Still she couldn't bring herself to go inside. She crossed the street settling on a bench, her eyes watching the seventh floor windows. She hadn't spoken to her parents since that terrible night. The sound of her father's voice still echoed in her ears. She heard it almost constantly, "Get out!" They had both called and left messages, but she couldn't call them back. She was too ashamed; too embarrassed.

The truth was she'd struggled long before her mother had become Secretary of State. Leaving high school and going to college had been difficult. She had floated through life at the top of her class, captain of everything as Ali used to say, but everything had been easy for her. She hadn't really had to study or work very hard and when something presented a challenge, she lived with two highly intelligent professors. Her freshman year had been so tough, her first semester she'd been devastated by two C's - her first ever. Her parents had been surprisingly calm about it. They'd reminded her that it wasn't uncommon to get some lower grades your freshman year. The transition was challenging they'd pointed out.

But, what she'd never told anyone, even to this day, was that she'd suffered a catastrophic, devastating heartbreak that first semester. It had nearly destroyed her.

She'd met him two weeks into that first semester. He seemed perfect; sweet, kind and intelligent. And she foolishly thought that it would be forever. After all, hadn't her own parents met in college? It was a family 'd been too shy to say much about him when she went home at Thanksgiving. Later, she had wanted to bring him home for Christmas break but he'd laughed at her when she suggested it. Of course, by the time Winter Break arrived, it was over, and she was grateful that they'd never known anything about him. It would've been far too painful to have to explain why he hadn't come home with her.

She had thought he was so sweet, good and kind - faithful like her father. She believed he would never hurt her; never hit her. He didn't - not with his fists. Looking back at it now, she recognized that he'd manipulated and controlled her; always boxing her in with his words - each syllable as powerful as a fist. At the time she'd thought it sweet and romantic - he couldn't bear to share her with anyone! But it made her nauseous to even think about it now. The cruel way he'd cut her off from everyone, even from herself. The worst part was knowing she'd let him do it - foolishly mistaking it for love.

Two weeks before finals, she had come back to her dorm room to find him in bed with her roommate. She had been completely shattered. She spent those last two weeks avoiding her roommate and sleeping on the floor of other people's dorms.

He'd tried to talk to her several times, apologizing profusely - blaming it on her roommate ("She threw herself at me!"), alcohol ("You know how wild I get when I drink") and even on her ("You've been so distant lately"). It had taken every ounce of strength for her to finish out those last few days. She took her finals, and packed her bags. She'd been waiting at the curb when her mother had arrived to bring her home for winter break.

She was quiet that Christmas, sticking close to home. Her parents had probed, sensing something was wrong but she'd been far too ashamed to admit she'd been so easily played. She convinced them that she was tired and homesick. When her report card had arrived those two C's were like a branding - she was an idiot. She would stand staring at herself in the mirror but couldn't even recognize her own reflection.

It had taken all of the next semester for her to recover. She'd transferred to a different dorm and settled into a new life. Her confidence had been badly shaken and for a long time she told no one about it. Her new roommate, Jane, had finally dragged it out of her, and after that she found herself slowly rebuilding her life. She had approached her sophomore year with excitement and joy. She was rooming with Jane again and things were looking up - and then her world got flipped upside down again! Her mother's job had knocked her back down to dust and she found herself back at home; a dropout.

She'd been sitting at a bus stop just outside her mother's building, lost in thought and dark memories. She hadn't noticed the sky growing dark or the tall man watching her.

***MS***

"Are you going to yell at me some more?" She asked Henry as the car pulled away from the curb. She sat against the door leaving a wide gap between them.

"Babe, knock it off." He studied her in silence before continuing. "Look, you remember Wolfgang, right?"

She blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Desert Storm. I talked about him. Wolfgang? He name was really Paul, I think but we called him Wolfgang. I can't remember why. He was married and had a little baby. Remember? He was the only other guy in my squad who was married."

"Right." She stared at him in confusion, clearly irritated. "I remember. He crashed, didn't he? Isn't he the one who is paralyzed now? What does that have to do with . . ."

"He got a letter from his wife, right before we went out. She was stressed, I guess, and missing him. It must have been hard managing the baby alone. She told him she wasn't sure if being married to a Marine was something she could do." He sighed. "He couldn't call her or email her. It was all he could think about. I told him that everyone struggles from time to time and to just wait it out; that she was probably tired and missing him - that it was just a bad day. But you know, it was hard over there and you had so much time to think and wonder. It distracted him, and then the next time we went out, he crashed."

The car rolled out of Georgetown as he continued. "I went to see him before the evac at the hospital and he said he couldn't keep his head in the game. He'd been worried about her, and miscalculated and so he crashed. He was too worried about her to do his job." He reached out for her hand, his voice gentle. "I don't want to do that to you. I know you've got the weight of a nation on your shoulders. I get that, babe. I really do. And things are bad right now. I see it. You are worried about the office and worried about Stevie, I don't want to add to that by making you worry about me. I look at you and wish I could do something helpful." She remained silent but moved closer to him, so that he could wrap an arm around her,

"No one ever thinks about what it's like from this side - to watch someone you love struggle with decisions that impact nations. This is hard. It's harder than I ever imagined, baby. And I never wanna be the reason that you are worried or distracted. I will _never_ let you walk out that door without making sure you how much I love you."

" Henry," She said softly, tears pooling in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I know we have to talk about her, but I just . . . She's twenty-one tomorrow and this isn't how I thought it would be. It is so messed up and I don't know what to do."

"I know. Neither do I. I feel helpless, and I need _you_. I can't figure this out without you. That's what I meant to tell you, but it came out all wrong. Sweetheart, I'm sorry."

She turned to face him. "No, _I'm_ sorry. Stevie is right. I screwed everything up! I can't bear that I've hurt her so much. She's struggling and angry, and it's all my fault." She turned burying herself in his arms as she wept.

"No, babe. No." He said cooing softly. "Shh. Elizabeth, don't. This isn't your fault."

"It is! I completely flipped her life upside down! Everything's screwed up! I'm a mess and the kids are a mess! You and I are fighting!"

"No, we are not." He kissed her cheek. "We are working things out, just like you said. And this is mine. I'm the one who threw her out, not you."

"Henry," She sat back to look in his eyes. "No, honey. Don't . . . You were angry. You were right to be angry. She's a smart girl. She can understand that."

"I'm so ashamed." He said, pulling her in tight and burying his face in her shoulder. "I'm so sorry." He said, crying. "I'm just so sorry. You were right. We should've waited until morning! You told me it was a bad idea to wait up for her! Why didn't I listen? And now, she won't come home, and I'm just so ashamed! I never meant to hurt her or you! I just want to make it right!"

"We will." She whispered, lifting his chin and kissing him. "You are such a good father, Henry. This doesn't change that. And we'll figure this out." She hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry about earlier. I was such a bitch about it."

"No, I was a jerk. I ambushed you." He wiped tears from his face. "I'm sorry, babe. I really am."

"Me, too." She said smiling at him. "I love you, Henry."

"I love you, too." He leaned in kissing her and she felt herself relaxing. The ache of worry over Stevie was still there. She still felt sorrow and shame for all the havoc her simple "yes" to Conrad Dalton had brought her family. But somehow, she found all of it endurable because this was still solid. It had nothing to do with her inner strength or independence - it was as solid a truth as the law of gravity; her heart was stronger because of him; they were stronger together.

"We can get through this." She told him. "We can make it better for her; and for us."

"We can." He agreed. "I'll try and call her again tonight. I'll check with her friend, Hannah."

"Okay." She smiled at him and then settled against his shoulder. "You have always been the Stevie Whisperer. She'll take your call."

"We live in hope." He said softly, his lips brushing her forehead as he spoke.

It had been painful to separate when the car had finally stopped in the garage of the State Department. She didn't want to leave him.

"They can take you home." She said, standing and facing him. He kept his hands on her arms, his fingers rubbing gentle circles.

"I'll take the Metro." He said. "I want to walk."

"I'll call tonight."

"No matter how late." He stepped closer. "Wake me up."

"Okay."

He ran his fingers along the side of her face. "You better go, sweetheart. I'm okay. You fix the mess here and home should be a piece of cake."

She leaned in kissing him but instead of her usual quick, public kiss, she kissed him deeply - completely ignoring the agents that surrounded them. When they finally broke apart, she had tears in her blue eyes. He reached out and brushed them aside with his fingers, before pulling her into a tight final hug. "I love you, Lizzie. You are my oxygen."

She blushed at this. He almost never called her Lizzie except late at night when they were alone and he held her naked in his arms. The rest of the world called her Bess, while he publically called her Elizabeth, keeping all of his nicknames for her private - secrets known only to them.

"I better go." She said but still clung tightly to him.

"So go, already." He said with a laugh, squeezing her tighter.

"I am." She kissed him one last time - An ordinary goodbye kiss and stepping from his arms headed toward the building, her fortress of agents moving with her. His shoulders slumped, watching her go.

"Need a ride back, Dr. McCord?" Frank asked him.

"No. I'll take the Metro." He said, turning to leave the garage. "Thanks, Frank."

"You're welcome, sir." Frank nodded at him. "She didn't hit the panic button." He added with a wink.

"No, she didn't." Henry agreed with a laugh. "Keep an eye on her for me, Frank. I've developed a pretty strong fondness for her."

"It's my only job, sir."

Henry nodded at the tall agent and stepped out into the icy night, feeling warm for the first time in days.


	5. Chapter 5

The shadows around her grew deeper and she realized that it was getting late. The bus had come and gone so many times she'd lost count. It took her a few minutes to realize that she was being watched.

Stevie McCord was, despite the years on the farm, a city kid. She'd spent the first eight years of her life not too far from where her parents now lived. She understood the importance of paying attention to her surroundings.

Her father had spent hours teaching them defensive moves. She remembered clearly, standing in the living room as he very seriously showed her how to break someone's jaw.

"Henry!" Her mother had said, interrupting him. "Maybe start with something less violent. She's only eight! You want her to end a kickball disagreement this way?"

"Honey, she knows it is just for bad people." He said.

"What bad people?" Stevie asked. "You said there was no such things as monsters."

Now, here she was twenty-one years old, failing to pay attention to the dangers around her. She could sense a presence behind her and to her left. Keeping her bag tight against her body, she slid to the far right edge of the bench and rose quickly.

"Wait!" A male voice called from behind her.

She increased her pace slightly, not quite ready to run.

"Stevie! Stevie wait."

"Damn!" She thought, sure that if she turned her head she would see yet another reporter.

"Look, I'm just trying to . . ." Her eyes grew wide with shock as she turned in the direction of the voice. "What are _you_ doing here?"

***MS***

She had known it would be like this. It seemed to be the way things worked out lately. Elizabeth McCord sank back in her seat as the plane increased the distance between her and her family. They had been able to hammer out a deal with everyone just twenty-four hours before she was due to leave for a trip to Nepal - one that she'd already postponed twice. Resigned, she took the little time she had been given and used up every single second.

She'd been released from her prison of work, just in time to catch Ali's track meet. Frank had silently glared at her for her a solid minute when she pointed this out to the Diplomatic Service Agents, but recognizing that telling her no was a lost cause, they'd scrambled to make it possible for her to watch Alison run.

Normally, seeing her mother's Moving Fortress, as Henry called them, would irritate and embarrass, Ali, but she actually jumped up and down with joy. Ignoring her coach completely, she ran across the field to her mother, her arms open.

"Mom!" She shouted gleefully. "You came!"

"I did." She said kissing her. "Sorry about the show." She indicated the agents behind her.

"I don't care! You are here!"

It made her eyes sting with tears that her sixteen year old would show so much joy to see her there. It made her recognize how out-of-control things had become.

"Noodle, your coach is waving to you. You have a race, now?" She nodded behind her daughter.

"Oh, crap!" Alison's eyes grew big. "I better go!" She kissed her mother's cheek. "Thanks, Mom. I'm so happy you are here!"

"I love you, Noodle." She said, hoping that she hadn't pushed things too far; you could never tell with a teenage girl. But instead of blushing or complaining, Alison turned back and squeezed her mother in a tight hug.

"I love you too, Mom."

She had spent several of her precious few hours, sitting in the warm sun, watching Alison run on long legs around a track. She fought to be present in the moment, as a million things yet to be done floated around in her brain. She closed her eyes briefly, as they set up for the relay race, of which Alison ran anchor, when someone sat close beside her. She smiled even before her eyes were open. Her agents would never let anyone near her, and as he sat she immediately recognized the familiar scent of his cologne.

"Henry Patrick McCord." She said opening her eyes and turning to face him. "I can't say how happy I am to see you."

"Elizabeth," He said with a polite nod. "I feel the same way." He laughed, relaxing and pulling her in, kissed her. "We have actual hours together before you go! I'm so happy I could cry."

"Marines don't cry." She teased him, but winced realizing that the very first time she'd said that to him, was the day Stevie was born.

"Ooh rah!" He said moving in for another kiss.

They had sat in the sun, watching Alison's final race, hand-in-hand, talking quietly. She was filled with such a glorious happiness that she could almost forget the pain of Stevie's absence; almost.

"I've left four messages," He told her quietly. "I don't know."

"Maybe we just have to give her some time. I've called six times, but I didn't . . . I only left one message. I don't know, Henry."

"Me, either." He sighed and she reached out to rub the side of his face with her hand.

"I guess we just endure." She shrugged.

"We hold on to the hope of better days." He said to her.

They didn't speak of it again, trying to focus on Alison, the beautiful afternoon, and the fact that they would be together until six a.m. when she had to leave him again. All three of them rode home together, Alison opting to leave with her parents, rather than the track team. She sat between them, glowing in the recognition and praise of her parents. Elizabeth was stunned to see that her sixteen year old didn't reach for her cell phone once, during the ride to the house.

"I must stink." Alison said as the car rolled toward Georgetown.

"You do." Henry teased her. "I didn't want to say anything before, but now that you mention it. . ."

"There's a whole other seat over there." She told him, indicating the empty seat across from them.

"I like it here." Henry said, kissing her forehead.

Smiling, Alison rested her head on her mother's shoulder. "I can't believe you actually came." She said softly. "Thanks Mom."

"I'd be there for every meet if I could, Noodle." Elizabeth said, kissing her forehead. She glanced at Henry who watched them with a smile.

"If you could, you'd be my coach." Alison laughed.

"I could show you how to run those hurdles," Elizabeth teased.

"Maybe how to throw the discus." Her daughter sat up shaking her head. "I'm not complaining, Mom." She added thoughtfully. "I hope it doesn't sound that way. I'm just grateful. I know I'm lucky. You and Dad are weird but I know you are proud of me and love me." Her eyes grew big as her mother's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry, I didnt . . ."

"No." Elizabeth said, shaking her head. She wanted to explain but found she was briefly incapable of words.

"Those are happy, tears, hon." Henry told Allison, reaching out and squeezing his wife's shoulder. "She's as grateful as you are, times about a million, I imagine." He winked at Elizabeth.

"I just . . . it seems more important to say things, don't you think?" She looked up at her father with wise brown eyes.

"It does." He agreed.

Alison settled back on her mother's shoulder. "I just wish Stevie had come over and talked to you guys." She sighed. "She's so stubborn."

"Talked to us?" Elizabeth asked. "What do you mean?" She pushed her daughter up off her shoulder so she could face her. "Honey, was Stevie at your meet?"

"She was on the opposite side, sitting with the other team." She looked at her parents. "I thought you guys saw her, or your agents did."

"No." Henry answered softly. "I would've . . .we would've gone to her."

"I'm sorry." Alison said. "I didn't notice her until the relay, and I couldn't . . ."

"It isn't your job." Her mother said, pulling her back down onto her shoulder. "Don't apologize. Things will work out with your sister, when the time is right - when she is ready."

"She's ready now. She feels awful about that night. She just gets so stubborn." Ali told them. "She hates disappointing you guys - we all do."

"None of you have ever disappointed us." Elizabeth told her daughter, resting her cheek against her daughter's forehead. "I'm the luckiest mother who ever lived." Her eyes met Henry's. "We are the luckiest parents."

"We are." He agreed.

***MS***

"What are you doing here?" Stevie asked again.

"Well, I was on my way to round up some coffee for your mother," Blake Moran said stepping closer to Stevie. "That building is where I work." He studied Stevie thoughtfully. "She's trapped in meetings but if you really need to see her . . ."

"No, I was just waiting for the bus." Stevie lied.

"The bus came twice while you were sitting there." He pointed out.

"Yeah." She could think of no explanation. She felt so tired.

"Hey, listen," Blake said gently. "Why don't you come along with me? I'm sure you have a ton of places to go and things to do, but I wouldn't mind the company. I've got to get about fifteen coffees, so I could use a hand."

"I won't carry them upstairs." She said nodding at the building across from them.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of asking you to do that. Would you be willing to carry them back to the street, here?"

"Sure."

"I appreciate it." He remarked with a grin. "Come on, kid. You know how your Mom is without her coffee."

***MS***

Elizabeth McCord, drifted drowsy with sleep. She rolled over studying the clock. It was 1:37 a.m. She closed her eyes, but opened them again when she felt Henry shift and move from the bed. She rolled over onto her back, studying the ceiling for a few minutes. Grabbing her nightgown, and robe, she dressed and then followed him downstairs.

"Mom and I really miss you, kid." She heard Henry's quiet voice. "I'm really sorry about what happened. We need to talk about it. This staying away isn't any solution that we can live with, Stephy. It's hurting your Mom; it hurts me. I know we've got a lot of stuff to talk about and maybe I haven't done a good job of listening, I don't know. I just know, that we love you. Listen, if you are too mad at me, could you at least call her? She loves you so much, honey. Just leave a message or something - it would mean so much." He looked up and saw Elizabeth, and blushed slightly, ducking his head embarrassed. "Okay, well, just think about it, okay?" He hung up the phone and stared at her sheepishly.

"I know," He said. "I'm breaking all the rules. It's stupid. If I beg her to come home . . ."

"There aren't any rules to govern the heart." She said, stepping closer, and wrapping her arm around his shoulder. "You don't have to hide from me, Henry. I've called her six times today."

He grinned and kissed her, resting his forehead against hers, as he released her. "I wish you weren't leaving in the morning."

"It is morning." She whispered.

He glanced at his watch. "Not yet. I've got four hours with you still." He wrapped his arms around her.

"It's just a quick trip." She said, more to herself than to him. "I'll be back and then we can work out this Stevie mess together."

"I love a woman with a plan." He said kissing her cheek. He swayed gently with her in his arms. "I should cancel my classes and tag along."

"Don't even tempt me." She said settling her head on his shoulder.

"I would, babe, but it's hard to justify getting a sub for midterms."

"Your problem, Professor," She said looking up at him. "Is you have entirely too much professional integrity."

"I do." He agreed with a grin. He leaned in kissing her again. "My biggest problem, is I'm desperately in love with the smartest woman on the planet, who is therefore in great demand to maintain its safety." He lifted his arm, spinning her in a circle before pulling her back into his arm, as they swayed together in the dark living room; dancing without any music except the united beating of their hearts.

***MS***

"Ma'am," Blake said handing her a stack of files. "Here's everything you asked for and also I included that cable from the Italians. I thought you'd want to read over it since you'll have some time."

"Thanks, Blake." She accepted the files and added them to her briefcase. "I guess that's everything."

"Yes, ma'am. The car's already waiting." He hesitated a moment.

"Is something wrong?" She furrowed her brows. "Blake, if you need to take care of something or stay behind, you just need to communicate it. I'm not a tyrant."

"No, ma'am, you aren't." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "No, it isn't anything like that. It's just . . . a little . . . awkward."

"Are you pregnant?" She asked teasing him.

"Not that i'm aware of, ma'am." He grinned at her. "Wait, do I look fat?"

"Blake, not four days ago, you were digging around in my underwear drawer. I think we passed awkward months ago!"

"Let's not discuss, that." He said looking down. "No, ma'am, this is about Stevie."

Her head snapped up, all laughter gone from her face. "What about her? Is she okay?"

"She's fine, but . . ." He cleared his throat. "I know how worried you are, and I've told her repeatedly, no demanded repeatedly, that she call you or Dr. McCord, but near as I can tell she hasn't."

"You know where she is?" Elizabeth leaned forward.

"Yes, and that's why I wanted to . . ." He lifted a hand, rubbing the back of his neck, nervously. "I wanted you to know that she's fine. She's safe, and she's as sad and worried as you are."

"Where is she?"

"Well, and this is very awkward," He told her. "She's at my condo."

Elizabeth's eyes grew wide with shock. "What?!"

"I found her sitting outside one night, looking just, well, you know." He shrugged his shoulders. "She didn't have anywhere to go. I tried, unsuccessfully, to talk her into going home, but she is really, very . . . determined."

"Stubborn." Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't know where it comes from." She smiled wryly at her assistant.

"Genetic mutation." He offered. "She's been there for the last two days, ma'am. I know how worried you and Dr. McCord are, and I wanted to say something to ease your mind but it's really . . ."

"Awkward." She finished for him.

"Ma'am, I would never want to intrude or doing anything that displeases you, but I couldn't just send her out into the night alone."

"No, don't apologize." She said reaching out and squeezing his arm. "I'm grateful. I'm stunned actually. This goes well beyond the call of duty. Harboring your bosses stubborn offspring wasn't on the list of expectations for this job."

"No, ma'am. Neither is spending thirty-six hours desperately praying for your safe return." He added quietly. "We've left the bounds of normal expectations awhile back, I think."

She said nothing for a long minute, looking up into his face. Finally, she turned gathering her briefcase and purse. She reached out, a hand on his arm, "Blake Moran, it is going to break my heart when you finally move on from this job. I will never be able to replace you." She smiled up at him, and walked past him and out the door of her office.

"Wait, why am I leaving?" He asked following after her. She paused just outside her office to turn and face him.

"You are too intelligent, capable and talented to spend your life standing next to someone as their assistant." She told him. "It would be a waste for you to spend your career just behind me and to my left. Someday, you'll have a seat at the table."

His face showed surprise and he found himself speechless. She smiled at him and then continued walking out toward the elevators, he paused to grab his bag, and followed her inside, reaching out to push the button for her.

"So, if I'm interpreting things correctly, Madam Secretary," He told her as they stood side-by-side in the elevator. "You aren't angry with me for harboring your rebellious offspring?"

"Well, I wasn't." She glanced over at him. "But when you put it like that. . ."

"I should learn to quit while I'm ahead." He remarked.

"You really should." She agreed.


	6. Chapter 6

Stevie stood staring out the window of Blake Moran's guest bedroom. Her books were spread out in front of her but she wasn't working. She was alone in the neat condo. Blake was traveling with her mother, but she still kept herself hidden and tucked away in the small spare bedroom; unwilling to disrupt his life any more than she already had.

"Listen," He'd told her before leaving. "I see your mother every day, and she's got weirdo voodoo, Jedi skills. I know before the trip is over I'm gonna spill my guts that you are staying here. I don't know what she'll do so you better get ready."

"She's not going to do anything." Stevie told him.

"She might fire me." He offered.

"She won't and if she does I'll talk to her."

"It might be worth it if it got you talking to her. Call them! At least give your Dad a text or something! They are really worried!"

"Blake, I appreciate you letting me stay here. It's just a few more days and I'll be back at my friend's place."

"You prefer a lumpy roll out couch, over my lectures?" He sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Just don't do anything until I get back - unless it involves one or more of your parents and a phone!"

"Blake . . ."

"Alright. I must be off. I'll see you when I get back. Go to class, and finish that paper!" He told her. "And if I find out you invited some frat house over, I will personally drive your father to you."

"Got it, _Dad_." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Dad?" He blanched. "I'm the cool, young uncle."

"The cool, young uncle, doesn't lecture."

He would be back in two days, as would her mother. She grabbed her phone scrolling through her messages when a text from Hannah caught her eye.

"Crap!" She said aloud as she read the short text.

-He's moving in! ️He wants to marry me!-

The text ended with five rows of hearts. Stevie tossed her phone aside and lay her head on top of the desk. She was completely screwed.

***MS***

"What time is it?" Elizabeth McCord asked her husband.

He glanced at his phone before responding. "4:16 a.m. How can somebody as smart as you never grasp time differences?"

"I don't have a grasp on time in general, Henry. My life is measured by meetings. When I get a break I'm calling you. I'm not checking a clock!"

"Duly noted." He rubbed his face.

"Should I hang up?" She asked him, but he could hear the smile in her tone.

"No way! 'Speak to me as music, for your voice is music to my ears.'" He grinned proudly. "That's Shakespeare, baby."

"You quote Shakespeare at four in the morning? Are you sure you're a Marine?"

"I'm not the standard issue." He explained. "And just to clarify, you call me night or day, Mrs. McCord."

"Roger that, Captain."

"How is it going?" He settled back on the pillows of the half-empty bed.

"Great. I haven't done anything stupid or offensive yet, so . . ."

"Begging for compliments, babe? Struggling with insecurities? You must be tired! You could convince Ghandi to eat! You know you are the consummate diplomat."

"No one talks like that at four in the morning, professor."

He laughed. "I miss you, babe. No one keeps me in line, like you!"

"Well, I'll be home in a few days - unless the world kilters off balance, again."

"Hey, darlin' next time they come knocking on our door demanding you serve your country, hold out for the Presidency, would you? Conrad's home a hell of a lot more than you are."

"Next time, I am NOT opening the door." She said. "How are the kids?"

"Good. Jason been a little down. Madison told him it was too 'complicated' being at different schools."

"That little bitch!"

"ELIZABETH!" He laughed. "They weren't dating, honey. They are thirteen!"

"So, she can't work a movie with him into her precious schedule? Is he crushed? Should I call him?"

"God no! Baby, the last thing he's gonna want is a pep talk from his mommy!"

"I gotta tell you, Henry, raising a boy has some drawbacks! His male pride really cramps my maternal instincts!"

"I hear you, babe." He laughed. "He's okay. And you comfort him without even realizing it."

"It was easier with the girls! All Alison ever wants is a snuggle and some ice cream and Stevie . . ." She stopped unable to finish her thought.

"Babe?" He asked softly. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "No luck?"

"No." He told her. "I even drove out to Blake's place but no one answered."

"He said she was looking for a new job." She offered. "Maybe she found one."

"Maybe." He agreed. "When you get back, let's just go there."

"A straight up blitz?" She asked.

"Yes!" He told her. "Waiting around sucks and it's draining my energy and yours. I mean, it couldn't make things worse, could it?"

"She's a McCord, babe! We've got an infinite capability to make things worse."

"Of this," He said sadly, "I am aware."

"I should go." She said softly. "Try and sleep a little more. It's early still."

"Not a chance, babe." He told her. "I wish you were here next to me."

"Me, too."

"Okay," He said, trying to sound cheerful. "You'll be right here next to me in forty-eight hours or so. I can deal 'til then."

"We've got no choice." She said laughing.

"I love you, babe." He told her. "And I plan to show you how much soon as you get home."

"I look forward to that," She said evenly and he knew that she wasn't alone anymore. He grinned malevolently, before speaking again.

"Want details?" He teased her. "First thing I'm gonna do is slide my fingers over . . ."

"Yes, that would be perfect." She interrupted him, and he could almost _hear_ her blush. "I'll see you then. Bye."

She hung up and he laughed out loud. His phone buzzed and he lifted it, unsurprised to see a text from her.

-You are a jerk-

He grinned and wrote back, -I love you too, sweetheart.-


	7. Chapter 7

"So, you finally crawled back to me." Harrison Dalton teased her.

"It's not like that." She told him. "Things have been weird and I've got midterms."

"Ah, school! I've got a vague memory of that."

She rose from the bed, reaching for her shirt. "You should go back."

"Yeah, right?"

"I'm serious." She said buttoning her shirt. "You are smart. And it would give you something to do. I mean, what do you want to do?"

"With my life?" He rubbed his face with his hand. "Geez, you sound like my parents. I just wanna hang out with you, for like, forever." He reached out for her hand.

"Harrison," She began. "I don't know if . . ."

He laughed out loud, and said, "Your face!" He pulled his hand back. "Jesus, Gingy, you are such a sucker. I know this is just for kicks."

"You gave me a heart attack! My mom was saying some crap about . . . Never mind."

"You got to love having your every move analyzed by the analysts! Don't they know they just trained their offspring to have made duplicitous skills!" He shook his head, reaching for a cigarette. "Your Mom is spooky good, though. I'm glad I'm not living in your house!"

"I'm not living there." She said sliding on her shoes.

"They kick you out? Whoa! When did that happen? Team McCord crumbles?"

"About two weeks ago. It was just . . . I'm twenty-one for God's sake! And that house is a fishbowl! You know how it is!"

"Hell, yeah. Where you staying? You can stay here, if you want?" He flicked his cigarette over an ash tray.

"Sure. The press would swarm this place in twenty seconds!" She shuddered at the thought. "I'm staying with friends. I'll figure it out."

"Anything to keep me at arm's length."

"It's not like that." She explained. "I just need some place low profile."

"Better learn to deal, though Gingy. It's not going away and the draw of losing yourself inside a bottle or pill can be too damn strong." He winked at her. "Trust me."

"I've got it under control." She responded sharply.

"Sure. You're sleeping with me and living out of a suitcase while you run from your Mom's shadow. Seems stable to me."

"You're sober forty days and you're the paragon of wisdom! Leave it alone!" She grabbed her coat and bag and crossed the room.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Harrison leapt out of bed, reaching out and taking hold of her arm. "I was only teasing! You don't ever have to explain or defend it to me, Stevie. We're CIA brats - who grew up to find out everything we were told was a cover story and a lie. There's no chance in hell for any of us to turn out straight."

She paused her chin down, saying nothing. After a long slow minute, she turned kissing his cheek. "Go get ready." She told him. "You don't want to be late for your meeting."

"See you, when I see you, brat!" He grinned at her.

"If you're lucky." She grinned.

***MS***

Henry McCord puttered around the house aimlessly. The kids often teased him about his pathetic listlessness when his wife was out of town. He had a stack of midterms to grade but had grown weary of reading the same five paragraph essay over and over and over. He went upstairs and hovered in Alison's doorway.

"Hey, Noodle. How's studying going?"

She looked up from her notebook. "Fine." She paused studying his face. "You are pathetic, Dad. Seriously."

"What?"

"She's been gone two days! I thought you were a tough guy; a Marine!"

"You know everyone in this family throws that in my face when it suits them, but when I point that out to your dates, you act like it was a hundred years ago."

"You completely terrified Josh, Dad. It wasn't fair."

"Well, good, and I thought we decided he was an idiot."

She shrugged. "We're friends, I guess. We went out for a year. He was just a jerk about ending it." She turned back to her work but he stayed where he was, watching her.

"Dad, come on." She told him, rising from her bed when she realized he was still there. "You can do this! She'll be back tomorrow night! Get it together!" She stood in front of him, and reaching for his hand turned him around so he faced the hallway.

"Okay." He said with a sigh. "But I was thinking maybe a drive would cheer me up." He dangled the car keys in front of her. "Of course, I'm much too sad to drive myself so . . ."

"Yes!" She jumped up with glee, reaching for the keys.

Henry smiled at her. "Get your brother. I'll meet you downstairs." He turned to go. "Leave the phone!"

She rolled her eyes at his rock-solid driving rule: No phones - EVER. He saw her expression, and added, "You wanna drive or not?"

"Okay! Okay!" She relented. "I'll get Jason."

***MS***

Jason McCord strapped the bottom of his bike helmet into place and said to his sister, "Okay, I'm ready."

She glared at him in the rear view mirror. "Take that off!"

"No way! I want to live!"

"Dad!" She moaned. "He's being ridiculous!"

"I agree, but he's your brother and annoying you is kind of his job."

"Yeah!" Jason said. "And I'm not taking any chances! Alison, you once walked straight into a wall while you were talking! Who knows what could happen in a car!"

"You are such a jerk." She said shaking her head at him.

"I really am." He agreed. "But at least I am a safe jerk." He tapped the top of his helmet for emphasis.

Henry sighed loudly. "Alright, you two. Enough. C'mon Noodle, check your mirrors and get everything set first."

She adjusted her seat and the mirrors. She then reached over adjusting the radio.

"No, go back one!" Jason complained. "I'm not listening to Taylor Swift all day!"

"You can't hear anything in that helmet anyway!" She told him.

Driving in DC traffic was no joke, and so he kept Alison on the outskirts of town, directing her away from the city, rather than towards it. It was still a four lane highway. He had found some of Elizabeth's meditation practices particularly helpful when Ali was behind the wheel. Alison was a practical and intelligent sixteen year old, but she was still sixteen - prone to distraction and panic.

"You are doing great, honey." He said encouragingly. She had, in fact, become a better driver over time, and so he relaxed, listening to the insipid music that blasted from the radio.

"Yeah, good job, Ali. You haven't smashed into anything, yet." Jason taunted from the backseat.

"You know, someday, you are going to want to drive, pal." Henry told him. "And it's stuff like this that's gonna make me want to put it off. Leave her alone and let her focus."

Jason shook his head, and Henry tried to keep himself from hitting the imaginary gas and break on the passenger side, as traffic bogged down. He turned his mind back to the music, in hopes to distract himself from the eight million dangers that surrounded his daughter. It was hard to just let go and trust her to drive - all he could think about was all the people in traffic around her. Were any of them drunk, or high, or deranged? He longed for the days when he could put his children inside a playpen; safe and protected.

He reached out to change the music, unable to stomach the teenage declarations of love and angst.

"Hey, I drive. I pick." Alison said, repeating his favorite rule.

"Honey, are you even listening to the words." He said to her. "These songs portray men so disrespectfully. That last song implied that men only like women who toy with their emotions and this one is implying that all men are chauvinistic womanizers. I'm sick of the media only showing one type of man."

"Alright, alright." She said to him.

"I wanted to catch the news anyway."

"Oh, Lord!" Jason said. "You're just going to listen to propaganda! If you really want to hear what is going on in the world, the news is the last place you should look!"

Alison cruised through traffic, cheerfully, and for a moment Henry was able to truly relax. The sun was just setting, and he knew that although, she wouldn't actually be home for another eighteen hours, Elizabeth was already on her way back to him.

". . . in other news, a plane carrying Secretary of State McCord was forced to make an emergency landing . . ."

The car swerved into the next lane of traffic, as Alison threw her hands up in shock.

"Honey, pay attention." Henry m said grabbing the wheel, and guiding the car back in the lane.

"Dad! Dad!" She said, looking at him wide, frightened eyes.

"You are driving. I heard it, sweetheart. We need to pull over." His heart was hammering in his chest and he fumbled for his phone, still keeping one hand on the wheel. "Alison!" He snapped. "Focus on the car."

Her face was white. "Okay," She said her hands on the wheel. She made her way across two lanes of traffic.

"That's it, Noodle." He said, as he passed his phone back to Jason. "Try and call her J."

"I got it."

"Now, there's an exit. Take that one." He pointed. She eased the car off the crowded highway, and pulled over to the side of the road. She covered her face with her hands, but forgot to put the car in park, and it continued forward.

"Put it in park, baby." He told her, reaching across. The car shuddered to an abrupt stop as he threw it in park at about the same time it hit a stop sign. The sign leaned forward at a crazy angle, but didn't fall.

"Good job." He said to her. He turned in his seat. "Jason?"

Jason shook his head. "No answer."

He turned the radio up, hoping to hear more. In his focus to get the car safely off the road, he hadn't been able to hear the rest of the story, but the reporter was already saying, " . . . and in other news."

"Damn!" He said. "Jason, google it." They both turned and watched him as frantically typed. "Ali, give me your phone."

"It's at home." She said softly. "No phones while driving."

"Okay, it's okay." He reached over holding onto her hand. "Jason, why does it say? It doesn't take that long to text."

Jason looked up from the phone, his face white. "I . . . I . . . Don't know. There's a whole bunch of different . . . It is . . ." His eyes were clouded by tears.

Henry reached for the phone, trying to keep focused on the screen in front of him. He fumbled looking for his glasses and tried to ignore the sound of Alison's sobs.

"I can't find my glasses. Damn it. I can't . . . I can't read anything!" He pushed the phone toward Alison. "What does it say?"

She wiped her face taking the phone from him. "Um . . . okay, this one says that they had a mechanical failure, and turned back. That doesn't sound too bad, right Dad?"

She looked up at her father, but his face was white. She turned back to the phone. "This one says that the plane was shot down!" Her eyes grew huge. "Dad!"

"The next one says it crashes." Jason said quietly. "Ali, they don't know anything. Everyone is just guessing. Right, Dad?"

"Um . . . Yeah. I . . . Mechanical failure? What did it say?"

"I don't know." Ali scrolled through the phone. "It keeps changing!"

"Okay. So they don't know yet." He exhaled loudly. "We'll go home. Ali, switch with me. You keep trying Mom's number, okay? I'll drive." He pushed open the door and wobbled on rubbery legs around the front of the car. Allison climbed out and stopped to hug him tightly before moving to the passenger side.

"It's okay, hon." He told her. "It's probably nothing." But in his mind he kept seeing the diagram of Vincent Marsh's plane, red arrows point out the mechanical failures, it had suffered.

He drove with no direction, completely disoriented. The car was silent as Alison dialed her mother's number repeatedly. She would dial, listen, hang up, wait and then dial again. The only sounds in the car came from both Jason and Ali, as they fought tears, and from Henry as he would say in a flat,emotionless voice, "Dial again."

Finally, Alison said, "The battery is dead.

"Plug it in!" He spoke sharply frustrated that he had heard nothing from his wife.

"I can't." Alison said sobbing. "There's no charger."

"Why the hell not?" He blew up. "You kids keep taking it out of the car! I've told you to. . ."

"Mom took it." Jason said softly.

Henry gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. He forced himself to calm his racing heart. "Okay." He said mostly to himself. "This is our exit. We're almost home."

"The agents will know something!" Alison said, as they turned on the street. "Won't they?"

"Yeah." Henry nodded his head. He didn't even bother to park carefully, leaving the car at a crazy angle. He hopped out, not even turning off the engine.

"Dad!" Ali called as she reached over and turned the key off, but he was already sprinting to the porch to meet the DS agent who was rushing to meet him.

"Ali?" Jason's voice sounded young.

"Come, on, Jase, let's go see. It'll be okay." They climbed out of the car together, but stopped dead in their tracks as they watched the DS agent swing his arms out wide to catch their father as he fell to his knees on the ground.

***MS***

Stevie McCord, sighed, trying not to glance at the clock on the back wall. Time was moving excruciatingly slowly. She had been fortunate enough to find another hostessing job. Although she was grateful for the needed income, it was pretty depressing to think about how far she'd fallen. Time was crawling tonight. The restaurant nearly completely dead.

"Hey, Adams!" Her manager called out. "It's dead as hell, you're cut."

She glanced around the room. "Adams!" He repeated stepping closer and tapping her shoulder. "You're cut. Do your side work and get off my clock!"

"Oh, right. Sorry." It always took her a minute to remember her name was Stevie Adams. She had to go through a whole song and dance with the general manager about using a different name. She was the only one who knew her real name.

"So," Martha had said. "You're telling me, I just hired the Secretary of State's kid?"

"Yeah, but look. I just want to live my life, okay?"

"Well, what's your middle name?"

"Elizabeth." Stevie told her.

"That won't work. What about your Mom's maiden name?"

"No thank you! I'm not going through the anguish of being called Faulkner! How about Adams? It's my grandmother's maiden name."

"Okay, Stevie Adams, you start tomorrow, but you better practice answering to Adams. Tony's my night manager and calls everyone by their last name."

She made her way back into the kitchen, praying that their wouldn't be a ton of silverware to roll.

"Hey, Stevie!" Amber said as she turned to go into the back of the kitchen. "Martha wants you in the office."

"Martha's here?" Stevie's heart sank. She must have screwed up pretty good if the GM had to come in. "Did she sound mad?"

"Don't know. Becca said she came in ten minutes ago, looking really pale, like she was sick and then she asked for you."

"Shit!" Stevie said. "Thanks."

"Good luck!" Amber said with a shrug.

Stevie climbed the stairs to the tiny office that overlooked the restaurant. She drew in a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Stepping inside, she saw Martha and Tony both. Neither one of them looked happy.

"Did I do something?" She asked anxiously.

"You have your phone with you on the floor?" Martha asked.

Stevie exhaled, relieved. They were really uptight about phones at work. She knew they often did sweeps to make sure none of the staff had their phones out on the floor.

"No. Well, I guess it's in my pocket, but it's off. I mean, it got shut off. I'm waiting until payday to pay the bill." She shrugged embarrassed.

"So no one from your family can get a hold of you, if they wanted to?" Martha asked, and suddenly Stevie felt her stomach drop. This wasn't a simple phone sweep.

"No . . .I haven't really talked to them lately . . . what's going on?"

"I'm sorry. I was driving home and the story caught my ear - the last name, McCord." She glanced at Tony. "I told him. Was your Mom on a trip somewhere?

"She was in Nepal." Stevie slowly sank into a chair behind her. "Did something happen?"

"I can't tell. The information isn't clear and I don't know who to call. There was a report on the radio that they had to make an emergency landing - in Jordan, I think."

Stevie fumbled for her phone out of habit, but then remembered that she had no service. Her eyes filled with tears. "Can I borrow your phone?"

"Here." Martha pushed the phone toward Stevie, who immediately dialed her mother's number, but it clicked straight over to voice mail. Hanging up, she immediately called her Dad's phone but the same thing happened with his. _Oh, shit!_ Stevie thought. _Please, God! No!_ She couldn't bear the thought that the very last time she ever saw her mother, she had caused her to have a panic attack.

"Did you drive here?" Martha asked gently and Stevie shook her head.

"I don't have a car."

"I'll drive you home." Martha said grabbing her bag. "You keep calling."

Stevie followed her boss numbly out of the office and down the stairs. "Can you take me to my parent's house? It's just across town."

***MS***

Henry McCord sat on the absolute edge of the couch. His cell phone was on the table in front of him. He stared at it, willing it to ring. Glancing at the clock behind him again, he saw that only two minutes had passed. _Five more_. He told himself. _It will ring in five more minutes._ He glanced behind him at Alison who paced the room like a caged tiger.

"Noodle, it's fine. We are just waiting." He told her.

"I know." She said, but sounded wholly unconvinced.

"You're making me nervous." Jason told his sister. "Sit down." He looked up at her from where he sat across from his father. Alison nodded, and crossed the room, sitting on the floor at Jason's feet. Her younger brother, sighed relieved and Henry nearly smiled, recognizing, as Alison had, that he had wanted the comforting nearness of his older sister.

He glanced at the clock again, but nearly jumped out of his skin as the phone finally rang.

***MS***

Stevie sat completely still in the car, trying not to become completely hysterical. She reached forward switching on the radio. "Do you mind?" She asked her boss.

"No, it's on a news station." Martha said to her.

" . . . say that at least seven people were killed in the storm." Stevie drew in a panicked breath. "The tornado touched down near a small residential neighborhood." She exhaled realizing they weren't talking about her mother's plane. They had to sit through sports and weather, and six commercials before the news cycled back around to the top stories.

"They say lightning never strikes twice, but a possible mechanical failure of the private jet that carries the United States Secretary of State has people wondering if any of America's diplomats are safe. The status of Secretary McCord is unclear at this time, as the plan had to make an emergency landing somewhere over Jordan. Information is limited at this time. Some have reported seeing wreckage, but no official statement has come from the State Department or White House at this time."

Stevie reached out clicking off the radio, unable to listen any longer. She stared at the phone in her hand, unable to remember any phone numbers, unable to even breathe.

***MS***

"Henry?"

"Yeah," He managed to gasp out. "I'm here. I . . . it's good to hear your voice."

"I tried to call right away, but I couldn't find my phone and then we had no reception. It's fine. I'm fine. Nothing happened." She was desperate to reassure them.

"Bill told me." He said. "It was just for a few minutes that we didn't know. I'm okay." He reassured her. "We weren't home. I took Ali out driving, so we couldn't get any information until we got back home. You are okay, though?" He found himself blinking back tears.

"I'm fine. The pilot was just being overly cautious. There was a storm and rather than fly through it, he choose to land. Visibility was low or something? I don't know. I don't know where all the stories came from! I swear, Henry, I tried to call as soon as I could."

"I know, babe. It's okay. I'm okay." He exhaled slowly feeling as if every single muscle in his body had been tied up in knots. "It was just really scary for about fifteen minutes. That's all."

"Fifteen minutes is a long time, babe." She said compassionately. "Henry, I'm sorry."

"Fifteen minutes is freaking lifetime!" He confessed, his voice suddenly thick. "Baby, when are you coming home?"

"I don't know. They are waiting for it to clear. The pilot thinks it should be safe in a couple of hours."

"Okay." He paused. "I'm gonna put you on speaker, okay, sweetheart? Ali and Jason would love to her your voice." He glanced at them.

"I'm so sorry, babe." She said again.

"It wasn't your fault." He pushed a button. "You are on speaker now."

"Ali? Jase? Hi, guys! I'm okay!" She called out and he could hear the strain in her voice.

"Mom!" Ali said. "Mom! We were so worried!"

"I know. I'm sorry Noodle. Same old story, though, huh? The press keeps screwing up our lives! You there, Jase?"

"I'm here." His voice was low and quiet.

"Good. Listen, we just have to wait until the storm clears and then I'll be home. I'll be there by the time you get home from school tomorrow, maybe - definitely by dinner time." She promised.

"Okay." Alison said. "I love you, Mom. I'm so glad you are alright."

"Oh, I love you Noodle, and I'm sorry I scared you guys so much. But honestly, nothing happened. You hear me, Jase? It's not some coverup. The pilot just thought it was too dangerous to keep going, so we landed. No one is lying to you, okay, buddy?"

"Okay." He told her. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too and I will see you tomorrow, okay?"

"We'll be waiting, babe." Henry said.

"Henry?" She said softer. "Am I still on speaker?"

He clicked a button on the phone, nodding at the kids. "Not anymore, babe. Everything is okay, right?"

"Yeah. I just . . . I can't get a hold of Stevie."

"Neither could I. I sent an agent over to Blake's but she wasn't there. Don't worry, hon. I'll find her."

"If she heard any of that ridiculous speculation! Henry, I'm worried!"

"I know, babe. Me too." He paused. "I'll get a hold of her somehow, okay? Don't worry about it. Just get yourself home!"

"I'll call before we leave, okay?"

"Baby doll, you can call me five hundred times between now, and when you walk in that door!" He rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to hide his tears from his children. "I'm so damn glad to hear your voice! I swear to God my heart stopped when I . . ." He cleared his throat. "Just get home, okay?"

"I'm fine." She repeated. "I'll be home soon."

"Not soon enough! I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you, too, Henry. Call Stevie for me, please! And I'll call you again in about an hour, okay?"

"Okay." He hung up the phone and leaned back against the couch cushions, suddenly exhausted. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and then sat up looking at Alison and Jason.

"Well," He said to them. "I guess that's gonna go down in history as one of the most insane driving lessons of all times!"

Alison laughed. "I'm sorry, Dad. I completely freaked!"

"You didn't hit any cars." Jason offered with a shrug. "It was kind of badass the way you crossed all those lanes."

"I don't remember doing that." She said with wide eyes.

"Don't worry about sweetheart," He said rising and holding a hand out to pull her up. "I don't remember driving home!" He pulled her into a tight hug, and simultaneously reached down, pulling Jason up by his shirt collar. "Group hug, humans." He told them. He squeezed them tightly, and kissed each of them on the tops of their heads. "Okay," He said releasing them. "Someone better cook or order food. I think we missed dinner back there somewhere. And do either of you have any idea where your sister is?"

"Her phone got shut off, day before yesterday." Alison told him. "But she got a job and was gonna turn it back on when she got paid."

"You know where she's working?" He asked.

"A restaurant." Jason said. "Here in Georgetown, right, Ali?"

"Yeah, wait give me a sec. I can think of the name." She frowned concentrating. "Wait! She sent me a text about it!"

"Well, go get your phone genius!" Jason told her, but she was already running to the stairs to get her phone. "I'll order Chinese?" Jason suggested.

"Yes! A ton!" Henry told him. "Once we get a hold of your sister, I'll be in the mood to celebrate." He paused in thought, "We know that we have passed from death to life, because of our great love unto each other."

Jason looked up at his father. "You are so weird."

"John 5:24." His father told him. "I don't know my brain is filled with words."

"Sit down. I'll get you a glass of whisky." Jason said pushing his father back toward the couch. "You've been through a lot, old man. You aren't making sense."

"Sure I am." Henry argued from where he sat. "You just need to connect the quote to your own circumstances and you'll . . ." He shook his head. "You're right. Just bring the bottle and glass. I'll pour. Your mother would kill me if I let you bartend."

"I'm thinking she's gonna give us all a pass for a little bit." Jason said with a raised eyebrow.

"You might be right." Henry agreed with a nod. Jason disappeared going into the other room to get the whiskey. He reached immediately for his phone, and texted her.

\- I love you - was all he could manage to type.

He typed it seventeen times.


	8. Chapter 8

Stevie McCord could recognize she was hysterical. A distant part of her brain kept telling her to calm down, but she just couldn't seem to stop her heart from racing. She had started crying, a block from home. By the time the car pulled to a stop in front of the house, she recognized that she might not even be able to stand. Martha looked up, as a man approached the car.

"This is it, right? Stevie?" Martha asked.

"I . . . I . . ." Was all she could manage.

"Who are all those people?" Martha saw the familiar knot of agents in front of the McCord home. One walked toward the car.

"Ma'am," An agent said after knocking on the car window. "You can't park here. You need to move your car immediately."

"She lives here." Martha indicated Stevie, who was now openly sobbing.

The agent peered across the seat. "Stevie?" Recognizing her, he spoke into a radio at his collar, "We found Gazelle. Someone notify Captain America."

"Is her mother alright? We couldn't . . ."

Another agent approached the other side of the car. "Stephanie? Let's go inside." The agent said opening her door.

"Thank you for bringing her home." The other agent said to Martha. "They'll take her to her family but can I get some information from you? She's been dodging her detail and been AWOL from her parents. It would be better if we had solid contact information."

"Yes. . ." Martha said distractedly, watching as Stevie was led, between two agents leaning heavily on them. The front door flew open and a man ran down the steps to meet her just as she fell.

***MS***

Stevie found it impossible to breathe and was fairly certain she was having a heart attack. She didn't remember getting out of the car but found herself crossing the dark street between two agents whose names she couldn't even remember. She wasn't even walking. They were pretty much carrying her. She wanted to ask about her mom but couldn't seem to push syllables into words. She couldn't believe how horrible she felt - her heart thudded in her chest and she could not get any air in her lungs.

"Wha . . . Is . . . I . . ."

"Let's get inside." The agent said to her. She couldn't really see but recognized the familiar outline of her father as he threw open the door and rushed down the steps to her.

"Stevie!" He grabbed her out of the agents arms. "It's okay. Mom is fine. Mom is safe."

He hugged her tight and her knees buckled. She slid to the ground, hyperventilating, desperate for air. He knelt beside her. "Sweet, it's okay. Mom is fine. Nothing happened."

"She's having a panic attack, Dr. McCord. Let's get her inside."

They moved to lift her, but he was quicker. He picked her up off the ground carrying her past Alison who held the door open. Jason stood wide-eyes just inside the door.

"Go get a lunch bag, Jase." He said carrying her to the couch. She lay back but he shifted her so she sat upright. "No, baby. Head down." He gently pushed her head down. "Get the quilt, Noodle." Alison who stood motionless watching, unfroze and dashed into the room bring back a quilt. She put it around her sister's shoulders just as Jason handed his father a brown paper bag. He took it and opened it.

"Stephy, breathe into this." He kept his voice calm. Hold it right against your mouth." He put her hand on the bag and she held it. "That's better. You have to focus honey. Think about slowing your heartbeats. You can do it, sweetie. Think calm, sllow and steady." He looked up. "Ali, come here. Sit with her. I'm gonna . . ." He glanced up. "Talk to her. Just keep talking." He waited until Alison was beside her and then pulling out his phone scanned through his contacts until he found the right number. He hovered just at the edge of the room, his eyes on his daughters.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Sherman? This is Henry McCord, I'm sorry to . . ." He began breathlessly.

"No, what is it? You sound distressed. I saw something on the news, but your wife is alright, isn't she?"

"Yes. No. Elizabeth is fine but we didn't know it for a bit. My oldest, she's having a panic attack and I can't . . . She's . . ."

"Stephanie? Right? She's nineteen?"

"No, uh twenty. No! She's just turned twenty-one."

"She's thin, like your wife? Same height?"

"I . . . Yeah, maybe a half-inch taller. I don't . . . She's breathing into a paper bag right now but . . ."

"Henry, she's fine. It just looks scary and it's hard to watch. You still have the Xanax I prescribed Elizabeth don't you?"

"Um, yeah, I think we do. She never took any."

"Well, that's typical." Dr. Sherman said. "That woman's got an iron will. Okay, so Stevie is healthy? No heart issues or history of epilepsy?"

"No, she's perfectly healthy."

"Okay, give her one pill. It should calm her, okay?"

"Okay," He paused. "I'm sorry for using the emergency number . . . I didn't want to take her to the ER, the press would. . ."

"It's fine, Henry. Go get her the meds. If you need anything else, you can call me. That's why I gave you this number. Elizabeth's not home yet?"

"No."

"I want you guys to call me when she's home."

"Thank you, Dr. Sherman."

"You're welcome."

***MS***

Stevie opened her eyes to discover she was laying in her parent's bed. Her sister, Alison was asleep beside her. Her head was pounding and she felt completely disoriented. She threw back the covers and padded down the hall, heading downstairs when she saw a glowing light below. She sat down half-way down the stairs she sat, listening to her father's quiet voice.

". . .asleep. She's okay. I left her in our bed with Ali."

"No, when she wakes up - first thing. It was worse than anything I've seen, I couldn't calm her. I had to sit with her - even asleep she was crying." He rubbed his face. "No," He paused, listening. "No, she's okay now. I'm sorry. I know that, babe. You're right, okay?"

"Can I . . ." Stevie stood hesitating. "Will she talk to me?"

Her father stood and turned. "She's awake! She's right here!" He carried the phone meeting Stevie at the bottom of the stairs. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her to sit on the couch. He handed the phone to her.

"You didn't ask her." Stevie said holding the phone in her hand. "She might not want to . . ."

"Talk to your mother, Stephy." He said leaning forward and kissing her forehead. He sat beside her an arm around her, knowing he should give her privacy but unable to let go.

"Mom?"

"Stevie! Thank God! It is so good to hear your voice!"

"I'm so sorry Mom! Please, please! Please forgive me! I'm so sorry!"

"Shh, baby. It's okay. I'm fine and I'm coming home. We can talk about everything, okay?"

"I'm just . . . Mama, I've messed everything up!" She sobbed. Henry squeezed her tighter.

"It's going to be okay, honey." He said.

"No, you haven't. You didn't mess up everything. And we can fix anything! Nothing is ruined forever." Elizabeth said calmly.

"You don't even know! I'm just a screw up! I'm so . . . I'm not like you. I can't . . . There's nothing you can't . . ." She felt her heart rate increase as she struggled to breathe.

"Stevie!" Her mother's voice was firm. "Stop. You are going to throw yourself right back into a panic attack. Where's Dad?"

Henry leaned in and said into the phone. "I'm right here." He reached for the phone and clicked a button. "You're on speaker, babe."

"Good. He's really good at keeping you calm. Listen to him. Baby, listen to the sound of my voice. Just breathe. Don't worry about anything else. In and then slow and easy out."

"Mom . . . I shouldn't have . . . I'm so . . ."

"Stop talking." Her mother told her. "Listen, you remember when we took that little sailboat out by Nantucket. You were maybe eleven."

"I remember."

"We got out and the whole thing just flattened out. No wind at all and we just lay on our backs looking up at the endless sky. It was so peaceful. Do you remember how it felt?"

"I do." Stevie said, her breathing slower.

"Dad was worried because we were gone so long."

"I thought you'd drifted out to sea and I grabbed some guys skidoo and went after you." Henry laughed, rubbing circles on her back.

"We were mad at him because be made all those waves!" Elizabeth laughed. "We told him to go away!"

"I remember that." Stevie said softly. "You got sunburned."

"We both did." Elizabeth's voice was soft. "You doing better?"

"Yeah." Stevie said curling against her father. "I'm super tired though."

"It takes a lot out of you." Elizabeth said knowingly.

"Just close your eyes, hon." Her father said, taking the phone from her hand and leaning back on the couch cushions.

"I don't want to hang up." Stevie said sleepily.

"I'll wait until you're asleep, sweetheart." Her mother said. "You close your eyes and I'll talk to Dad."

"Okay."

"I guess I better stay here." Henry said to her. "I wish I could meet you when your plane lands."

"No, it's better this way. I don't want anyone but you guys!"

"She's nearly asleep." Henry glanced down, running a hand over her cheek.

"Good." She sighed. "That was hard. How did you do it?"

"What?" He asked her confused.

"Calm me down. Help me through those panic attacks?"

"Oh, well, same way you just did. I don't know. I guess you just stay calm and talk."

"I thought it was bad on the other side!" She sighed. "Thank you. I'm sorry. I didn't understand how hard that was. It's horrible listening to her in so much distress."

"It is." He agreed. "But I'm just grateful you are here still. I'm grateful every single day." He told her. "Nothing else matters."

"You sound tired. I should let you sleep."

"No. I just want to listen to your voice. I don't even care what you say! Read me one of your reports or say the alphabet over and over, I just want to hear you, babe."

"I love you." She told him.

"See, how can you expect me to hang up when you say things like that."

"I'd say more but I hear an echo so I must still be on speaker." She laughed.

"I think she's listening to you even asleep." He shifted his arm. "I'd carry her back upstairs but I'm dead beat."

"Marines never get tired." She told him. "That's what you said."

"Well, if I remember right, that was on our honeymoon." He laughed, glancing at Stevie. "Remember that time I dragged you to that conference in France?"

"Oh, God! All I wanted to do was go to the beach and shop."

"And all I wanted to do was visit musty old churches and libraries!" He chuckled remembering. "Talk about star-crossed lovers!"

"Remember the taxi?"

"That's what I was thinking of!"

She smiled, tucking a leg underneath herself. She sat in the office of her plane as it flew through the dark night. "We kept arguing about where to go, and he drove us to that little cafe outside the city. It was beautiful!"

"You tried to tell him that he had taken us to the wrong place." He laughed remembering it.

"But he kept saying, 'No, this is where you must be. This is where you were intended to go!'"

"We sat by the river, and they kept bringing us course after course, which you ate!"

"It was so good! We stayed until the stars came out, remember and that little girl came out and played the violin, and we danced and danced!" She considered thoughtfully. "Why did we never go back?"

"You can't go back to a night like that!" He told her. "If we do, it won't be like we remembered. It will be small and dingy. I think it should be left as a perfect dream. Beside, we couldn't remember the name anyway."

"No!" She laughed. "For being sentimental you forget the craziest things! Don't you remember? It was called La Riviére de Saint Stefan des Reves."

"Saint Stephen! That's right! I forgot!" He shook his head, looking at Stephanie asleep beside him.

"You said she'd be our dreams, remember?"

"I do." His voice was soft. "I didn't really forget, I'm just tired."

"I bet." She said, her voice softer. "It's been a long day."

"Babe, you don't even know the half of it." He said sleepily. "I'm falling asleep."

"Good. I'll be home tomorrow. Just close your eyes, Henry. "She came back to us and we can figure the rest out."

"Hmmm. . ." He meant to agree with her but he was already asleep, dreaming of dancing with her in his arms beside a starlit river in a town so small and far away that no one could ever find them.

*** _Author's Note***_

 _Thank you for the kind reviews! I agree wholeheartedly with thepuppiesinpink that I would gladly take any class that only required a five paragraph essay! I generally write several versions of the same chapter and then combine the parts I think are strongest. As a result sometimes details get cut which makes things unclear or leaves out important description. Henry was grading a midterm that included short answer - hence the five paragraph responses. In a different version, he despairs of his own idiocy for creating an exam that was such a pain to grade - twenty short answer questions and a long essay! It didn't move the plot so I cut it. I also had a version in which Stevie flips out at the restaurant and ends up in the ER but I liked the idea of her coming home better._

 _Also, the manager Martha, is modeled after my own GM back from my waiting tables day! She was a compassionate strong woman who drove one of my co-workers home herself after she'd learned her boyfriend had been killed in a car wreck. She also came to the hospital to see me when my father suffered a massive heart-attack (which he survived!) she was a good boss and a good person and just about the ONLY thing I miss from those grueling days!_

 _Thanks for taking the time to read my humble offerings and tolerating my typos! I swear I check and check! I'm too shy to ask for a Beta - always to scared they'll say, "Good God! Your writing sucks!" So we live with my flaws instead._

 _P.S. I really have grown to love poor Stevie. The kid's been through the wringer!_


	9. Chapter 9

"So, what am I supposed to do?" Stevie asked, feeling suddenly hostile and unsure. She sat nervously across from Dr. Sherman. She'd argued with her parents for a solid hour about coming here. They had, of course, won in the end. It was perfect actually - her whole pathetic arc ending up with her sitting in front of a therapist - her _mother's_ therapist no less!

"There aren't rules." Dr. Sherman said.

"My mom comes to see you?"

"Yes."

"She talks to you about Iran?"

"Sometimes she does," Dr. Sherman answered honestly.

"Does she talk about me?" Stevie knew she was being ridiculous but figured she was killing time.

"She has."

"I'm not sure how I feel about that! I bet she's got a list of complaints about me." Dr. Sherman didn't respond and Stevie considered her next move.

"Your father also talks to me, if that's your next question. He mostly talks about your mother though, not too much about you, your sister and brother." Dr. Sherman said with a smile. "So now that we got all that out of the way, why don't you tell me why you are here?"

Stevie sighed staring out the window. "Didn't they tell you? I'm the McCord who completely fucked up her life."

***MS***

Stevie faced her parents, sitting in the straight back chair. Her mother sat across from her. Her father stood beside the couch.

"Okay." He said sitting next to his wife. "Jason's at the movies and Alison is at Isla's so are you ready?"

"Yeah." She looked down at her feet.

"What about Dr. Sherman?" Her mother asked softly.

"She was nice." Stevie shrugged. "I think I should go again, if that's alright,"

"Of course!" Her father said.

The silence hung between them like a curtain, separating them. Stevie shifted uncomfortably.

"I wanted to say again how sorry I am." She exhaled slowly. "I didn't understand at all. Panic attacks are really, really horrible. I know that you're angry," She looked up at her father. "You have every right to be! I hurt her . . ." She struggled briefly. "I hurt her on purpose."

"Why?" Her mother's question was soft and gentle.

Stevie stifled a sob. "Because I'm . . . I've got a lot of stuff I haven't told you." She looked up meeting her mother's eyes. "I know what I said that all of this is because of your job, but it isn't. I've been messed up for awhile now and I was trying to ignore it, but that doesn't work. It spills out on everyone."

Her mother leaned forward, reaching for her hands. "You can tell me anything, Stevie. Anything at all. I love you. It won't matter."

"I wanted to be perfect." Stevie said her eyes bright with tears. "I wanted to do everything right!" Her voice broke and she looked down, pulling her hands back from her mother's, ashamed.

"Baby! No one is ever perfect! You of all people should know this!" Her mother leaned forward. "Look at me!"

"I do." Stevie said. "All the time. You are beautiful and confident. You are strong and determined. You were first in your class, and finished your bachelor's in three years when everyone around you took five. You are so intelligent the CIA recruited you! And you are unfailingly patient and kind. Hell! You were the hula hoop champion of summer camp when you were seven!"

"I was runner up." Her mother corrected. "You are leaving so much out, Stevie. I was also a scared, homesick kid at boarding school, and I'm a horrible, horrible cook. Plus I never once finger painted with any of you. And I'm unbelievably driven and stubborn."

"I just wanted to . . . I know it isn't, but you make it look easy. Everything! The way you dress, work, you and Dad - it is seamless!"

"So, this is all your mother's fault?" Her father sat back clearly angry.

"No. Dad it's me! It's completely me!" She sighed sitting back. "I went to school thinking it would be easy - like high school and everything would fall into place, but it was really hard. I didn't feel comfortable - ever. And I couldn't say anything about it because I thought it had to be easy. I thought I was failing."

"Stevie, honey, you can talk to us! You should have . . ."

"I should have." She agreed. "And there's this one thing I never told you." She drew in a deep breath. "I kept it a secret." Her dark eyes were downcast, shame etched on her features. "I met this boy . . ."

"Conner." Her mother said softly and Stevie looked up shocked.

"How did you . . . I never . . .Mom!"

"Yes, you did. The first week you met him. Then a few months later you mentioned him again and then at Winter Break you were so sad. I figured it was over. I tried to . . . You wouldn't talk about him."

Stevie stared at her mother, completely stunned. "I didn't . . .you knew?"

"I wanted to know about him. You wouldn't talk." Her mother explained.

"He wouldn't let me." Stevie ducked her head. "This is what I'm so . . ." Her voice broke. "I'm so ashamed."

"Stephanie Elizabeth what happened?" She turned to face her father, his voice unrecognizable. His face was white and his jaw tight.

"I thought it was love; so romantic. He said that everything should be private. I was so stupid!"

She stifled a sob. "I thought he would be like you." She turned to her father. "It never occurred to me that he would be so . . .disrespectful! I was so dumb! And I can't believe I let him treat me like that - that I was so stupid! I know better!"

"Did he . . ." Her father knelt in front of her. "Stevie, did he hit you?"

"No." She shook her head. "He just . . . He manipulated me. He controlled everything - what I wore, how I spent my time, who I talked too." She looked down at her hands. "I am so ashamed. It's just so pathetic! You taught me to be . . . I'm willingly participating in some pathetic abusive relationship, while Mom's on the short list for Secretary of State! I mean how freaking pathetic is that!" She covered her face with her hands.

"Stevie . . ." Her mother said softly.

"And then," She dropped her hands, interrupting her mother and forcing herself to finish the whole shameful story. "Right before finals, I came back to my room and he was . . .he was in bed with Maggie." She shook her head. "And the jackass tried to make excuses - to blame her; to blame me!" She stood suddenly, wiping her face with her hands. "So there you have it. I went from valedictorian to a stupid character in a bad Hallmark Movie - _He Done Me Wrong_ starring Stevie McCord, former self-respecting ace." She stood shoulders slumped, waiting.

Her father rose, and slamming his fist against the coffee table, he paced out of the room. Stevie dropped her head shame washing over her in waves.

"He's furious. That's all." Her mother stepped in front of her, her hands on Stevie's arms. "Right now, all he can think about is killing the little bastard, honey. He's not disappointed or mad at you. He is enraged." She reached out running a soft hand over Stevie's face. "Did he . . . were you . . ."

"He didn't rape me." Stevie told her. "I mean it's not like I don't think he was above that, I think he just sensed that was where I would draw the line. He never forced me. I feel so sick to remember I went to him willingly." Fresh sobs escaped her. "I can't accept that I'm this dumb! I let him derail my whole life!"

Her mother pulled her in, and she found herself clinging on tightly. "Listen, Stevie. You are still you. You are strong, talented and so intelligent. And I am so sorry that you've kept this to yourself all this time. I'm sorry that you felt you couldn't tell us. It doesn't change anything, sweetie. I'm so proud of you! Your Dad and I are both so proud of you!" She looked up at Henry who stood in the doorway, watching them.

"I'm sorry, Stephy." He said moving closer. "I'm sorry you fought this all alone." He wrapped his arms around them both. "Mom's right. Every molecule in my body wants to find him and . . ."

"Henry," Her mother said gently. "Not now."

"Right." He said. "Mama's right, Stephy. You are so smart, and kind and sweet. We are proud of you! We are so proud of you." He kissed her forehead. "And we will do whatever it takes to make sure you are feeling better. I'll move earth and heaven to make that happen, sweetheart."

She stepped back from their embrace. "I really, really hated going to Dr. Sherman. I mean really hated it but you were right. It really helped and . . ." She drew in a deep breath, finally strong enough to say what she needed. "I know your schedules are really crazy and . . ."

"We'll go." Her mother interrupted her voice firm. "Absolutely. Whatever you need."

"Nothing outside of this house is more important than the people inside this house." Her father said, wrapping an arm around each of them. "That's not ever going to change. Things are more complicated now and we have to work harder but it is still true. We will do whatever you need, Stevie. You are our sweetest dream, and we love you."

It washed over her like a wave; their love. She felt it wash away her shame and anguish. She curled into her father's arms, her mother wrapping around from behind. She had thought telling them would destroy her; destroy them. She had so badly wanted to maintain the same image that was captured in her high school yearbook - the perfect student; the perfect daughter.

Resting in the arms of her parents, truly honest with them for the first time in nearly two years, feeling the power of their love, compassion and forgiveness, she recognized that it was the perfect place to fall.


	10. Epilogue

_Author's Note: I considered the story finished with the previous chapter. While it did not contain a ton of Elizabeth and Henry, I tried to include them as much as possible. As is true of many of us, I have a Stevie love/hate relationship. This story was an attempt to make her palatable for me. But I also was thinking how difficult it would be to grown up under Elizabeth's shadow. I mean, if my parents looked that good when I was in 7th grade, I would've assumed I was sired by aliens._

 _But just as I considered the story finished, this little scene popped into my head. I tried to write it as a stand alone one-shot, but it required too much backstory. I hope you appreciate this little add-on._

 _I greatly appreciate the reviews and thoughtful comments. Any errors in grammar French or English, are entirely my own._

\- Epilogue -

Elizabeth McCord was stunned to look up from her desk to see Conrad Dalton standing in the doorway. He glanced around her office, and said, "I was looking for your assistant but there was no one out there!"

"Mr. President!" She rose from where she'd sat at her desk trying to simultaneously translate a report and eat a salad. "I'm so sorry. I just sent Blake to lunch. It's been a slow day."

"You eat at your desk?" He paused taking in her office. "Bess! What's the first rule?"

"Always listen to your boss?" She asked with raised eyebrows.

"You have always been the worst kiss-ass!" He laughed. "Sit down." He folded himself into a chair across from her. "How's the family?"

"They are well, sir." She answered without hesitation.

"Good." He nodded. "Been a tough couple of months."

"I hadn't really noticed." She winked at him, but then frowned slightly, curious as to why the President had come to visit the State Department. Experience taught her that it generally wasn't for a good reason. She steeled herself, fully expecting a request to travel abroad to deal with trouble. Her best guess was the Sudan. She tried to keep any weariness from her voice. "Pardon me for saying so, sir, but it seems to me you are a little busy to be wandering the halls inquiring the health of my family dog?"

"You don't have a dog." He shook his head. "Do you?"

"Three, but they are at the farm. I recognize that look, you know. I may have quit a decade ago, but I still remember the way you looked right before you made a request."

"Well, I do have a bit of a favor. . ." He smiled at her.

"I thought so." She sat back in her chair. "You know, being President gives you a distinct advantage when you ask for favors."

"You use the tools at your disposal." He said with a shrug. "I need you to take a trip for me. You would leave the day after tomorrow."

Her face gave away nothing but inwardly she cursed. _Henry and the kids are going to be thrilled about this,_ she thought to herself.

"I see." She hesitated, considering. "The Sudan?"

"Uh, no. I need you to go to Paris."

"I'm sorry?" She was completely surprised. "We are experiencing a French crisis?"

"No. No crisis. I am slated to give a speech Friday night, but I've just been slammed lately and it seems a bad time to take a trip." He shrugged. "And it's mostly recreational; just a reception and a speech. You are better at that sort of thing anyway. You're completely fluent - Henry, too, right?"

"You are sending me to Paris to make a speech?" She found it difficult to process this piece of information. "Seriously?"

"I'll have my office send over the details. I would really appreciate it. I've just been worn down and a trip now is inconvenient. Honestly, Lydia's irritated that I'm about to dash out the door again. It'd really be a favor to her." He gripped the arms of the chair pushing himself up. "So, great, you'll do it!" He said without waiting for an answer from her. "I really appreciate it. It's a five day trip and I assumed you'd want to bring the whole family so I had my office book accordingly."

"Mr. President, I . . ." She stood a hand raised as she struggled for words, overcome with surprise. Overwhelmed with this surprising gift of kindness, she found she couldn't manage any words.

"Bess," He said softly. "You've made history. You and I both know that my legacy is a direct result of the sacrifices that you and your family has made, and despite what Henry might think, I'm not a cold-hearted bastard."

"He doesn't . . ."

"He does and I don't blame him. So do this favor . . ." He paused, pointedly. "For me, and maybe I won't have to request extra agents every time Henry and I are in the same room."

He moved to the door of her office. "So, what do you say? Can you manage a trip to Paris with your family for me?"

"Yes, sir. I can do that, Mr. President."

He smiled reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I appreciate it." He turned to go. "There's just the speech and reception, so you'll have to find something to fill the other days. And for pity's sake don't let Henry drag you from one ancient church to another - live a little."

"I'll give it a go, sir." She smile up at it him. "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it, kid." He squeezed her hand once more. "See, there's an upside to working for me - every now and again."

"It has its moments." She agreed.

Now, four days later, she was riding through the Parisian countryside. They had spent the morning at the Paris Catacombs and then shopped in the afternoon. She had been content to ride along in the car with no thoughts or worries, when she realized that they were moving away from the city, not toward it.

"We are going the wrong way?" She told Henry.

"Oh, I asked him to make one quick stop." He told her.

"Da-ad!" Alison protested. She turned to Stevie, "I told you! I knew I heard him talking about an old church!"

"Dad? Why? I've behaved!" Jason groaned. "Please! Please, don't make us look and really old scrolls."

"Come on!" He shook his head. "Just this one thing. There's just a little bit of time left in today. Just do this one thing for me, kids."

"We are trapped in the same car as you," Stevie pointed out. "I like how you pitch it as a choice." Her voice conveyed mild irritation, but Elizabeth glanced up just in time to see Henry give Stevie a wink. She wrinkled her brows.

"A stop?" She asked. "I really ought to work on my speech for tomorrow night."

"No, hon," He turned to her. "We agreed. You are allowed to work after two tomorrow - but not until then."

"Scouring an old church is kind of like working, Henry." She pointed out.

"For me. Not work for you." He told her. "We only agreed on your work schedule, not mine."

She shrugged her shoulders, recognizing that debating with him would be impossible; he'd developed amazing skills under a life time of her "coaching". She conceded the argument, and leaned back closing her eyes.

"Wake me up, when you're finished reading dusty documents written by monks a million years ago." She told him.

***MS***

She did not stay in the car, however. They had pulled up to a very quaint church at the edge of a small village. It was beautiful, and truth be told, she found exploring old churches enjoyable - if she explored them with Henry; his face lit up like a boy, and she couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm.

"Some of the monks who gathered here, would later lose their lives trying to protect the villagers during the revolution." He told them. The kids wandered around the tiny church, and then disappeared back out to wait near the car.

"I think you lost your class, Professor." She told him, but he only smiled, and reached for her hand.

"Let's look at the graveyard. It's back this way, I think."

"You really know how to show a girl a good time." She laughed, as he led her out the back door of the church. "Nothing like tombstones to set the right mood."

He didn't respond but led her inside the small fenced graveyard. He pointed to several stones, pausing to read each inscription. They stopped at the far edge of the graveyard and he read a stone with a nearly faded date.

Born: 1712. Died:1719. Beloved.

"Oh, that's sad." She told him. Looking up, she realized that the church backed up against a small river. Just beyond the graveyard, was a path that ran parallel to it.

"Let's walk a bit." He said when he saw her looking at the river path.

"The kids will wonder . . ."

"Oh, let them. It's just for a minute. And any of the agents could fill them in." He pointed out.

They walked hand in hand along the river, just as the sun was beginning to fade from the sky. The bustling city of Paris seemed thousands of miles away. The only sound was the river beside them, and an occasional bird. She was looking to her left, enjoying the beautiful countryside, and the fading light. She held onto Henry's arm, and simply allowed herself to be led around a gentle curve in the path, when he stopped. She hadn't been paying attention, and so was startled that he had stopped walking. She turned to ask why, but a flickering of lights caught her eye.

"Henry!" She dropped his hand, stunned.

Just ahead of them was a small cafe tucked into a curve of the river. White lights hung from the trees, and beneath their glow were a few small tables, each lit only with lanterns.

"It turns out," He said gently. "It is just as we remember it." He smiled at her, reaching for her hand.

Her eyes blurred with tears. "It's still here?" She turned to him, throwing her arms around him. "It's beautiful. Oh, Henry! Thank you!"

They walked toward the lights, hand in hand, and she was surprised to discover that the only patrons at the small cafe were in fact, their own children. They smiled at her, and Jason, pulled back a chair for her to sit.

"Well, I believe I just witnessed McCord Family Theater earlier." She said smiling up at them.

"Tradecraft." Alison said with a grin.

"The family business," Stevie offered with a wink.

They sat around the table, and an older couple emerged from inside the cafe, smiling as they did.

"Vous êtes retourné à nous!" The gentleman said reaching out to kiss Elizabeth's hand.

"Nos cœurs ne quittaient jamais!" Elizabeth said with a smile. "Merci. Il est tout aussi belle que dans notre souvenir."

"Nous sommes heureux que vous êtes retourné et apporté votre belle famille avec vous." He told them.

"Ceci est notre premier né. Nous avons nommé son Stephanie dans la mémoire de ce lieu, et parce qu'elle est notre rêve." Henry said, indicating Stevie who blushed, as the older gentleman kissed her hand, and his wife kissed her cheek.

"Dad," She protested.

"Well, it's no secret, honey." He grinned at her.

"Le rêve de vos cœurs! Bien sûr! Les jeunes sont les effusion de nos cœurs, et notre espoir pour l'avenir." He told them.

His wife nodded, "Ces beaux enfants! Nous allons d'abord vous nourrir, et puis vous ferons danser près de notre rivière de rêves." She pulled at her husband's arm.

They disappeared and Elizabeth reached for Henry's hand. "I am left without words." She told him.

Henry grinned. "Well, that almost never happens." He leaned in kissing her. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She said kissing him again.

"Maybe we should switch to another table," Jason said. "All this talking French and kissing is making me uncomfortable."

"Jason!" Stevie admonished. "Don't be a teenage boy for two hours - that's all we asked."

"I told you it was a lost cause." Alison chimed in. "Behave." She told her brother.

"What? You are comfortable sitting at the table while the two of them engage in eye sex?" Jason asked.

His sisters burst into laughter.

"Dude! What are you talking about?" Stevie asked, laughing so hard that tears ran down her face.

"What in the hell is 'eye sex'?" Henry said laughing. "Seriously, Jason? We talked about all of that."

"I'm beginning to doubt your teaching skills, Professor." Elizabeth told him, trying to hide her laughter.

"You know what it is - you need to talk to your boss." He pointed at her. "That state of our educational system needs to be addressed - quickly."

"Hey, you know what I mean . . ." Jason blushed, frustrated and embarrassed. "Stop laughing." He said turning to his sisters.

"I blame the internet." Elizabeth said to Henry. "He stares at that damn tumble thing all day long."

"Tumblr, mom." Jason said, clearly offended. "And eye sex is a real thing. I know it is."

"Dude, really?" Allison shook her head.

"I'm just saying that . . ."

"So, you are some kind of a sex expert now?" Stevie asked her little brother.

"Forget it!" He threw his hands up in exasperation as his sisters laughed. "Forget I ever said anything!"

"Never!" Alison said.

Henry, stood and extended his hand to Elizabeth. "Venez avec mon amour. Laissez les enfants se chamaillent. Nous allons danser sous une couverture d'étoiles."

Alison laughed, "Tout le monde à la table peut parler, en français, papa."

"Eh bien, M. yeux sexe est un peu lent à la traduction." Stevie pointed out.

"I am not!" Jason protested, pouting.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, talking Henry's hand and moving away from the table. He led her away to a small clearing under a grove of trees lit with white lights. He pulled her close and began to sway with her in his arms. "You are a man of surprises." She said smiling at him. "This is . . . I am overwhelmed."

"Well, good." He said.

"There isn't even any music!" Jason shouted to them.

"You were the one who said that a third child was a great idea." Henry told her, and she laughed. Music drifted toward them, as two boys stepped outside. One played a guitar and the other a violin.

Elizabeth sighed contently, resting her head on her husband's shoulder. "We should stay here. Forget, the nonsense of Paris."

"Well," He hesitated.

"Henry Patrick McCord!" She looked up at him in surprise.

"It's just for tonight. And just the two of us. The humans are going back to the hotel after dinner. But for us there's a little villa next to the river. You might have noticed Frank glaring at me. He does not like _anything_ that backs up against a river."

"I would imagine not." She put both arms around his neck, pausing in the dance to kiss him. "Vous êtes mon cœur, Henry. Je t'aime. Merci, pour cette belle nuit, et pour tout le reste. Je ne peux imaginer survivre ces terribles jours sans vous."

"Je t'aime aussi. Chaque jour. Toute ma vie. Jusqu'à la fin des temps." He said leaning in to kiss her.

They danced together in the moonlight under a sky brilliant with stars. They danced to the music of their children's laughter, the sound of the guitar and violin and to the music of their own hearts.

\- la fin -

French Translation

Cafe Owner (Jacques): You have returned to us!

Elizabeth: In our hearts we never left. Thank you! It is as beautiful as we remembered.

Jacques: We are so pleased that you have returned and brought your lovely family with you.

Henry: This is our oldest. We named her Stephanie in memory of this place, and also because she is the dream of our hearts.

Jacques: The dream of your hearts! Of course! Young people are the outpouring of our hearts, and our hope for the future.

Jacques' Wife: What beautiful children. Come, we shall feed you and then you shall dance beside our river of dreams.

And later Henry says to Elizabeth:

Henry: Come, my love. Leave the children to bicker. We shall dance under a sky covered in stars.

Alison: Dad, everyone at this table speaks French.

Henry: Well, Mr. Eyesex, is a little slow to translate.

Elizabeth to Henry: You are my heart, Henry. I love you. Thank you for this beautiful night, and everything else. I can not imagine surviving without these terrible days without you.

Henry: I love you too. Each day. All my life. Until the end of time.


End file.
